The Ravenclaw
by borderfame-sabrestar
Summary: Violet Frost, fifth year, Ravenclaw. Disowned, alone, afraid to let anyone break down her walls. Until she meets the Weasley twins, that is. George Weasley/OC. Bit of Fred. Enjoy!
1. Chapter 1

This is one I wrote last year and never had the chance to edit and upload to the site. It's weird, because I used to write such nice happy endings, and looking at some stuff I've written more recently I can see some dark recurring themes in them. Most of which I haven't uploaded here because it's either

a) worthless ramble with no plot line

b) not actually a fan fic

c) so badly written I'd embarrass myself by uploading it

**d) all of the above**

so it was a nice surprise to stumble across one that I'd actually finished, that I got written down, that had a hint of a plot line and actually had a happy ending. So even if you think this story is stupid and it's got no point, or that it's** just another excuse for me to talk about the Weasley twins** (even though it's that, too) this is just a story I wrote when I was happy and I'm proud to say that even though I've had rough times in my life, I know I have been happy and I know I'm luckier than some.

**So if you like pointless romance and happy endings that don't need an explanation (or a sequel, for that matter), then read on. :)**

This is chapter one of **The Ravenclaw.**

* * *

**The Ravenclaw**

_Chapter One_

The house was small, a perfectly ordinary suburban home with a small garden out the front, roses sitting behind a picket fence with faded white paint. Vines crawled on the red bricks of the house and the light shadows of early morning and lazy, soft sunlight as the sun began to reach over the horizon.

The house was perfectly ordinary.

In the front window of the house, a person could easily see the familiar mess of life, magazines scattered on the kitchen bench, paintings slightly crooked on the wall from people having brushed past them. The photo shelf was straining to hold up all of the frames full of memories on it. The pillows on the couch were out of order, random colours that didn't match.

It felt like home.

Further along the hall, a girl looked in her reflection in the bathroom mirror. Long, dark hair fell across her face, and she brushed it back to reveal high cheekbones sitting below deep set, sapphire blue eyes, and above her eyes hovered curiously slanted eyebrows. Her jaw line was sharp and her nose was small and pointed – her general face structure was that of a sharp, elegant nature.

She pulled back her silky, dark hair, pulling it into a ponytail, then she let it fall back down again. She gathered it together again, and let it out again, looking at it from a few different angles and repeating the process before she sighed and let it down, walking into the living area.

She wore dark blue jeans and dainty lace up leather shoes. She had a charcoal grey button down cardigan hanging over her shoulders loosely. She had a slim, lithe figure that was elegant and athletic at the same time. She seemed to have long legs and arms but she wasn't particularly tall, only a little above average. She liked not being short anymore, like she used to be.

She walked through the living room, the curtains drawn back so that the soft morning light washed through the house, and she walked through the light to her bedroom, where her trunk lay waiting, almost ready to go.

She placed the last few items inside – a few more books (she liked classics), a small padded package and a few bottles of product that looked ever so cosmetic. She was a girl, after all.

She shut the top of her trunk, after surveying the contents inside one more time – the enormous pile of books, the dark school clothes, the plain casual clothes, a broomstick and a collection of small leather boxes, which sat quietly in the back corner, and on top of them were a few odd objects – small toys and trinkets which you wouldn't find in your every day supermarket or gift shop.

She stood up again, brushing her hair over her shoulder, and she picked up one end of her trunk and began to drag it out to the front of the house, making it look easy.

And anyone looking in the front door would have seen a thin wooden object sticking out of her back pocket that looked strangely like a wand...


	2. Chapter 2

**The Ravenclaw**

_Chapter Two_

Steam billowed around the train and the bustling crowd of people on the platform surged and swayed. The girl pushed her trolley along the platform, a speckled brown masked owl in a cage atop her trunk. Cordelia had already bid her farewell, and left the platform. She had to get to work.

She managed to push through the crowd to the nearest carriage of the Hogwarts Express, and she managed to get to the doorway and drag her trunk on board, and she carried her owl cage as she wandered down the aisle, looking for an empty compartment. She was one of the first on the actual train – many others were still saying their goodbyes.

She found an empty one, and inwardly rejoiced as she set her owl cage down and proceeded to put her trunk up above her head, after pulling out a rather old looking book. She then pulled the curtain down on the window, just until the train set off, and she sat back against the wall and began to read.

She was completely zoned out and didn't pay attention to the people walking up and down the carriage, looking for a compartment. They were starting to get desperate, and she just hoped that she'd be able to sit in a carriage with somebody quiet, at least. She knew that her friends would be sitting in a compartment further along, and she knew from previous experience that they would be far too talkative and excited for her to be able to read at all on the entire train journey. She didn't dislike her friends; they just didn't appreciate the sound of silence.

She flicked a page, and as she lost concentration for a moment she saw a shadow pass by her compartment door. It halted, and took a step back, and then somebody opened the door carefully.

Standing in the doorway of the compartment was a tall, slender guy, with handsome – if somewhat angular – features on his face. He had an attractively shaped face and bright green eyes, sparkling in an intriguing way. He had bright red hair that hung down his neck and messily across his forehead, and on his face was a small half smile, that grew to a grin as he caught the girl's eye. He wore tattered jeans and sneakers and a plain shirt, and a dark red sweater on over the top, the sleeves rolled up revealing the slightest hint of blue veins beneath his pale skin and elegant, long-fingered hands.

He took a step inside, and asked with a raised eyebrow, "Need some company?"

The girl held her gaze on him, and as he smiled at her she found herself smiling back, a little unsure but genuine nonetheless. "That depends," she replied, her voice light but not high pitched.

He took another step towards her, and he said with the lingering grin, "On what?"

"A number of things," she said, turning her eyes back down to the book she held in her hands, a smile still gently playing on her own soft lips. "Your conversation topics, how good the company is, the number of strange creatures you may have hidden in your trunk, your level of intelligence and," she paused, glancing up again, "your intentions."

"Ah, you need not worry," the tall red-head replied, "I am the king of interesting conversation, I am extremely good company, I come bearing no strange creatures, I am often described as one of high intellect, and I am nothing less than a gentleman," he finished, and as though to prove his point, he took one of her hands and gently pressed his lips to it, flourishing the other hand almost comically.

The girl couldn't help but smile. "Should I let you stay, though?" she asked, not seriously. She'd already made up her mind but she was having fun.

"Haven't I already won you over with my charms?" he asked in response, still holding her hand, and he raised an eyebrow in question, his smile somewhat fading yet still visible in his sparkling eyes.

She blinked, and then smiled, looking away. "I suppose I could give you a chance."

His face split into a grin again, and he said, "I can't tell you how grateful I am."

He dragged his trunk inside the compartment, lifting it with ease over his head and onto the rack above. She thought of how much of a struggle she'd gone through lifting her own trunk up there, but then again his trunk was quite a bit smaller than hers was.

He sat down opposite her, and he said, "So, might I know the name of my pretty compartment companion?"

She glanced up from her book again, raising an eyebrow at the word pretty, but he just waited for an answer, the smile never really leaving his lips. She replied, "Violet Frost."

"Extremely pleased to meet you, Violet," he replied. "My name is –"

"George Weasley."

He looked slightly taken aback, but he only said, "It's hardly fair that you know my name, but I didn't know yours."

"I knew you were a Weasley twin," Violet said, "I just didn't know which one."

"What gave it away?" he asked. "The name on my trunk?"

"The little G knitted onto the corner of your sweater."

He glanced down, and said, "Blimey, I didn't even know that was there." He looked up again, saying with a smile, "You know more about me than I do."

"It's probably just your mum trying to tell you two apart."

George seemed, again, taken aback. "This has been an enlightening conversation."

Violet just smiled.

"So, which year are you in, Miss Violet?" George asked in the same charming way. He seemed a little more than interested. Violet wasn't used to being the object of interest – she often looked a little too lost in a book or otherwise was too quiet to be interesting.

"Fifth," she replied. "You're in... seventh?"

"Sixth," he said. "I know, I look older than I am."

"Yeah, you just radiate maturity."

George grinned again. "You're making fun of me?"

"I might be," said Violet with a friendly smile. She liked George already.

Before he could say anything else, though, somebody opened the door to the compartment, and there stood another tall, handsome, red-haired person. He glanced down at George, then his gaze turned to Violet and his eyes seemed to light up. What was she, some sort of ornament? Why were they so elated to be in her company?

"Why, who have we got here?" the twin Violet knew to be Fred, asked.

"Fred Weasley, meet Violet," George said. "Violet, meet my twin brother and fellow gentleman Frederick Weasley."

Catching on to the gentleman theme that George seemed to have running, Fred bowed gracefully, and then he reached for Violet's hand and repeated what George had done only moments before – he raised her hand to his lips and kissed it. "Delighted to meet you, Violet," he said, with a smile.

Violet raised an eyebrow, then smiled in response. She liked them, they were just a bit dramatic. She was rather withdrawn and quite used to not being part of conversations.

Violet wasn't good at starting conversations, so it's lucky that the boys were. Fred asked her, "You're in Ravenclaw, aren't you?"

"Yeah," Violet said, frowning. "How did you –"

"Quidditch," he said, with a crooked smile. "I remember playing against you once."

George made a noise that sounded sort of like 'ooohhhh' and he said, "I knew I'd seen you before somewhere!"

Violet nodded. "I'm a chaser."

"Beaters," they said in unison. "Sorry." Violet knew that they were either apologizing for sending the odd bludger her way, or sorry in advance, or both.

"Don't worry, you couldn't hit me," she said, with a small smile.

Fred looked at George, and George looked at Fred, and they looked aghast. "I think that sounds like a challenge, Fred."

"I think it does, George."

Violet didn't continue reading, but she kept the book open in case she wanted to. You never know.

The train screeched a goodbye, and began to leave the station. Violet was jolted slightly but she regained her position and settled back into her seat.

"What are you reading?" George asked her, indicating towards the open book. It was old and the pages yellowed, the familiar smell of old paper one that Violet found very appealing. She flipped it to the cover and she replied, "_Call of the Wild_."

"What's it about?" Fred inquired, "Are you doing care of magical creatures this year?"

Violet laughed. "It's not for studying. It's a muggle book. A novel."

Fred frowned in confusion, but George just asked, "You read muggle books?"

"Just because they're not magical doesn't mean they're stupid," Violet retorted. "Oh, don't get me started – I'm used to being teased about my bookworm habits."

She managed a weak smile, and then prepared to start reading again but George interrupted her by saying, "I wasn't teasing you. I was just curious." He smiled reassuringly.

"Oh no, I know," Violet said, "I'm just so used to –"

She was interrupted again by a person sticking his head in the open door. He had pale ivory skin and sharp silver eyes, his face set in a smirk, his handsome features twisted around the evil grin, and a few stray strands of silver blonde hair hanging across his forehead.

"Phoenix," he said, tasting her name on his tongue, her real name, his usually sour voice pleasantly normal as he said, "It's been too long." His smirk turned into a smile, and he leaned casually on the door of the compartment. He was joking – she'd seen him not two days ago. She smiled back at him.

"Hello, Draco," Violet replied, "How are you?" She failed to notice the deep frowns burrowing on the twin's brow as they glared at the boy standing in the door. She forgot about the Gryffindor-Slytherin rivalry. She always thought it was silly, anyway.

"Better now," he said with a smile, and then he glanced at her companions, and it faded. He said, "Am I not welcome?"

Violet glanced at the twins, seeing their angry expressions, George's glare of pure hatred and Fred's frown of anger and disbelief.

"No, Draco, you can stay –" she began, but he'd already left.

She frowned at the empty doorway, and then glanced back at the twins. She saw their frowns were still there, but now they were frowning at her. She shrunk back into her little corner, and turned back to her book, trying to pretend like nothing had happened.

But the twins weren't letting it go.

"What was all that about, Violet?" George said, almost growling in his anger, "Why were you – what was – why did he call you Phoenix?" he said, struggling to speak.

"It's just what he calls me," Violet murmured.

"Why were you talking with him like that?" Fred asked, pointing to the empty doorway. "It's like – like you're old friends or something."

"We are old friends," Violet lashed out.

"But he's a muggle hating Slytherin git, already got his Death Eater contract ready, I bet..." George spluttered.

"He hates us and he's always hated us, he makes judgements about us..."

Violet snapped in retort, "You don't know a thing about Draco Malfoy. He's had a harder life than you have."

"Yeah, in his mansion," Fred replied, his face stony.

Violet couldn't believe that they'd turned into such hateful, judgemental characters, while just a few moments ago they'd been perfectly hospitable and friendly.

She turned back to the book, and stopped talking to them. Fred sighed heavily and he stood, walking out of the compartment, saying under his breath, "Clearly we are not welcome, either." George followed a moment later, with one last glance at Violet as he walked out the door.

Violet bit her lip and read her book.


	3. Chapter 3

**The Ravenclaw**

_Chapter Three_

She finished her book, after few intervals – when a few people walked in to say a brief hello, when the trolley full of sweets came by.

Violet finished the last page and she shut the book, and then sighed. She stood, stretching, and then put it back into the pouch on her trunk, and was about to get out another when somebody spoke.

"Too short to reach?" Draco asked, announcing himself and teasing her in one easy sentence. She smiled, and leaving her book she walked into his arms and into his embrace.

He wrapped his arms around her, and she said, "I'm not that short," and playfully punched him in the stomach. He pretended that he was winded terribly, and collapsed on the seat. She laughed and sat opposite him.

Draco half smiled and said, "Those Weasley boys didn't give you any trouble after I left?"

"No, they left too," Violet replied quietly.

"Oh." Draco looked a little taken aback. "Sorry."

Violet shook her head, saying, "Don't worry, it wasn't your fault."

"Geez, Violet," Draco said, "You shouldn't stick up for me all the time. I don't care what they think about me."

"I care what people think about you," Violet murmured quietly. "You're my friend." She stared at her feet as she spoke, leaning her elbows on her knees.

Draco reached out and took her hand, and said, "Don't worry about it," he said, squeezing her hand.

She smiled weakly, but then sighed and said, "Why do you behave so cruelly, Draco? You're always sneering and teasing whenever you're with your friends. No wonder they think you're a horrible person."

Draco shrugged, not offended by her words. She'd talked to him about this before. "I don't know," he said. "I guess it just helps me to fit in. It'd be easier if I was in Ravenclaw, like you, but I am proud of being a Slytherin." He flashed a smile. "I wouldn't swap now."

Violet rolled her eyes. Draco continued, "Hey, Phoenix, don't give me that. You know the real me – and that's all that matters. It's only when I'm with Crabbe and Goyle and Pansy when I act up. I've grown up now – I don't even hang out with them anymore. I hang around Blaise and Theo. Now, it's just habit – just attention craving... I am the prince of Slytherin, after all."

"You're so damn conceited," Violet said, teasingly. "I like it better when it's just you and me and Theodore, I don't even mind Blaise. You just need to back off sometimes. Don't give them reason to hate you, please," she begged. She looked up at his metallic silver eyes, and he sighed.

"I'll try," he said. "For you." He smiled, and then sat back in his seat, letting go of her hand.

Violet and Draco had been friends for as long as they could remember – it had always been Draco, Phoenix, Blaise and Theodore, and Theodore's little sister Adele, who was good friends with Violet. Theodore and Adele were her cousins – Violet's mother had been a Nott before she married Phoenix senior.

Violet's parents, Phoenix Frost senior and his wife Ambrosia, were highly respected in the wizarding world – Phoenix was a very famous professor, a magical endeavourer as he liked to put it. He had discovered many spells and new kinds of magic, not all of it good magic but that wasn't the point. Ambrosia was the Head of the Department for Magical Law Enforcement at the Ministry. She held one of the most important jobs at the ministry itself and answered only to Fudge himself.

They had been so proud of their daughter, their first child. Phoenix had hoped for a boy but he loved her nonetheless, as well as a mostly absent, mostly unloving father could. He named her after himself, as was tradition. And Phoenix junior had disappointed nobody – she'd been clever, magically talented and witty. She was quiet, polite, and obedient. A perfect child.

That had changed for a while, when Phoenix had been sorted into Ravenclaw. It was almost unheard of – a pureblood witch, raised by strict Slytherin parents, sorted into Ravenclaw. But Phoenix junior was very clever, very smart. She didn't necessarily agree with everything her parents stood for but she was smart enough to agree anyway. She'd seen Draco beaten and cursed for arguing with his father, and she'd been punished many times by her own father. He didn't hold back on his violent parenting habits, and Ambrosia simply let him do it.

So when Phoenix junior was sorted into Ravenclaw, she panicked. She'd be beaten, she'd be cursed if the news reached her father. It wasn't something she'd had much control over, but she knew that would be of no consequence. She couldn't tell them. She sent a letter home saying she'd been sorted into Slytherin and she loved it there – she snuck into the Slytherin dungeon and described how nice the common room was in her letter. She managed to keep up the facade for a long time, hiding her secret from her fellow students by going by her middle name, Violet. The older Slytherins were people she knew but were not necessarily close to, so although they were mildly surprised they soon forgot about it.

And then Violet was so worried that Professor Snape would rat her out to her parents – he was a good friend of theirs. She didn't act upon her fears, just hoped, but one day he asked her to remain after potions class, and he asked her whether she'd told her parents about the 'unfortunate sorting incident', as he'd so plainly put it. As if it was that simple.

She shook her head nervously, shaking as she stood there. She remembered the day so vividly – Snape had simply stared at her, frowning, and then he said coolly, "I can see why you are a Ravenclaw – you are smart. I doubt your cleverness will pull you through. I expect you shall run out of luck and one day they will find out... But it won't be today."

It was almost like he seemed to sympathise with her – she was shocked. She thanked him, and then ran back to her dormitory and ran over in her head what had happened. He was on her side. He knew how it felt to be under so much pressure to be a perfect Slytherin – why, he was only a half blood. He must have had so much trouble in Slytherin during his school years.

So Violet kept her secret safe – for a year, at least. Before she went home, Snape had transfigured the emblem on her robes and changed the colours of her scarves and ties to a royal green, and it fooled her parents. She was safe.

The next year was the year that Draco, Theodore and Blaise were to attend Hogwarts. They were, of course, sorted into Slytherin. And Violet could remember Draco glancing up and down the table for her, as she had never told him she was in Ravenclaw. She'd never said she wasn't in Slytherin, she just hadn't said she was, either.

And she remembered the day after when he spotted her in the corridor with her bright blue Ravenclaw emblem on her school robes, and he'd stopped in his tracks as he was walking up to her. He looked to the blue, then back up to her eyes, and did this a few times before turning and walking in the other direction.

Violet cried herself to sleep that night.

She received the same treatment from Blaise – he almost completely ignored her, and when he didn't he'd cast a glare in her direction. Draco developed a snobbish attitude and took it out on her whenever he could, and he'd constantly taunt her and her friends (or lack of) as well as everyone else around him.

She did not however receive such treatment not from Theo as much. He didn't ignore her, he spoke to her a few times but only briefly. He seemed a little bit uncomfortable around her, and so the conversations never lasted long. He always made some excuse to leave. They must have all hated her, during that first term, so Theo felt like he should as well. But he didn't really. They both knew that.

She got a letter just before the holidays that she was coming home for the two weeks. She almost always did but she wondered why her parents had specifically told her she was. She had a feeling why, but she hoped not.

And then, when it came to the first term holidays, Violet went home and she knew that they'd found out. As soon as she walked in the door, the house elf scurried away, and he hid down in the kitchen. She pulled her own trunk to her bedroom, up the stairs of the giant castle-like home, the home of the Frosts for as long as anyone can remember. She planned to stay in her room and hide away, but her father called out from down the stairs, telling her to come to his study. She heard his footsteps walking away and a few moments later, she stood and walked on shaky, twelve year old legs to his office...

She didn't like remembering what had happened. She instead preferred remembering how, when she returned to Hogwarts, in a compartment where she locked herself away so nobody could see her, she got to school and as soon as she walked through the door Snape was waiting for her. Snape had healed her bruised lip and her black eye, the scars on her skin and her broken ribs. He hadn't said anything but he knew what had happened.

Snape was looking after her. He empathised with her. She cried as he healed her, resting her forehead on his bony shoulder, so ashamed of herself, but what could she do? She had to keep being a Ravenclaw. She couldn't change that – it was who she was now. Could they hate her so much for that?

And the answer was yes, yes they could.

And while he was cleaning her up, Theodore had come into Snape's office, saying he'd found the door open, but then he stopped talking as he saw Violet in all of her bruised glory. He'd lost his train of thought, and all the words on his tongue disappeared as his mouth hung open as he looked at his cousin.

And then Snape had quietly, in his sinister voice, told him to leave. Theo had stumbled out of the classroom, not saying another word.

A few days afterwards, Theodore had approached Violet in the library, where she spent most of her time, and he said he was sorry for what had happened. He thought she'd already told Phoenix senior and he'd mentioned it to his parents in a letter, but he hadn't meant for her to be hurt. He seemed to be in extreme discomfort by the mere thought of her being hurt at all.

He asked if she was alright, and she'd shrugged and murmured an incoherent response, her social skills having degenerated with the lack of interaction with her fellow students as she didn't feel like she fitted in with the Ravenclaws and she certainly wasn't friendly with the Slytherins. She hardly spoke to anyone.

Theo began talking to her more, and soon Draco stopped curling his upper lip every time he saw her, and began just staring at her as she walked by. Blaise followed his lead, and then not long after they started talking to her a bit more, when they had the chance to. They began to accept her, after they realised just how much it crushed her to be such a disappointment to her proud parents.

And so Violet found herself with friends.

The next few holidays, her parents requested she stayed at school, and it was the year after that Phoenix senior sent her away to live with her estranged cousin Cordelia Frost. She'd met Cordelia before, but hardly remembered her, and when she went to stay with her, taking the little things she could, she realised why she hadn't seen Cordelia for so long. She was young, about eighteen, and as soon as Violet walked in the door she saw a picture of Cordelia hanging on the wall, standing proud in her bright blue Ravenclaw Quidditch uniform, pushing and shoving her team mates as they had won the Quidditch cup. She'd been a keeper. She'd been disowned, just like Violet was.

Delia was nice to Violet. She looked after her and when Ambrosia came to visit she was charming and kind, even when Ambrosia was brisk and blunt, hardly even looking at her own daughter, an almost perfect image of herself but for the dark hair. Ambrosia had beautifully blonde hair, almost like it was made of honey and caramel. Violet had the jet black hair she'd inherited from Phoenix.

The Malfoys didn't mind Delia either – at least, Narcissa didn't. She visited sometimes, but Delia and Violet both knew she didn't tell Lucius about the occasional visit to the disowned Frost girls. She had brought Draco by as well later on, when she came to visit. That was nice of her.

Delia's theory was that a few generations ago, a Frost had married a pure blood who may have been in Ravenclaw, or maybe even hadn't gone to Hogwarts at all. It was possible, and it seemed a reasonable explanation for their strange differences, the black sheep of the family.

Delia, like Violet, had the potential to be vicious and cruel, she just wasn't because she hadn't had to. That was the Slytherin's job. She was also proud of her Ravenclaw roots, unlike Violet, who was ashamed to not be in Slytherin.

Delia often apparated herself and Violet to Diagon Alley to meet with Theodore and Draco during the holidays, and soon Violet found herself almost fitting in with the boys again. It was, sometimes, just like how it used to be.

Violet drew her mind back to the present, where her now best friend Draco was sitting opposite her, and she smiled. It had started to get better, and now it was almost like she was used to her life.


	4. Chapter 4

**The Ravenclaw**

_Chapter Four_

"So, not sitting with your Ravenclaw chums?" Draco asked.

"They talk a lot," Violet said calmly. It was true. "How am I supposed to read with all that rattle going on?"

Draco laughed. "You never stop reading. You're worse than bloody Hermione Granger."

"She's nice," Violet said quietly.

Draco snorted. "To you, maybe. She hates my guts. Nobody ever thinks to give a man a second chance these days."

Violet smiled. "It'll be okay. As long as you start being nicer..."

He sighed, and slumped back in his seat. "I can't help it. I hate Potter and his stupid little gang. Okay, granted, the baby Weaslette is bearable. She is half-nice to us Slytherins. And I don't care for Ravenclaws, you're alright… It's just damn Potter. He makes me want to puke."

"I'm sure the feeling is mutual," Violet replied with forced reassurance. "Just keep out of his way. That way everyone's happy."

"Not as easy as it sounds, Phoenix," Draco said, and Violet forced herself not to flinch at the pet name. Nobody called her Phoenix anymore, because it brought back harsh memories of her father. But when Draco called her Phoenix, she could sometimes remember the times when they used to play as children, flying around on their broomsticks, screaming and yelling and pulling off spectacular manoeuvres...

"You'll do fine," Violet said.

A little later, after they'd been talking a while, Theodore arrived at the door of the compartment. He'd seen Violet not a few weeks back, after a secret meeting at the Leaky Cauldron, but he pulled her into a rough hug when he walked in, saying, "Hey, I missed you, big cuz."

Then he looked down at her, as he'd grown to be at least six foot one or two over the holidays, and said, "Well. Little cuz."

Violet rolled her eyes and he sat down beside her, and then Blaise walked into the compartment as well. He didn't embrace Violet as the others had, but just nodded politely. He was used to the idea of her being in Ravenclaw but he was conservative enough as it was – not exactly a physically expressive guy. He was sarcastic and dry. He teased his friends to death, and they all took it in their stride. It meant he respected you.

He sat beside Draco, and they all talked about how their holidays went. They were casual, and the conversation was friendly. Violet knew they weren't going to mention how many times they'd been cursed by their parents these holidays – Theo's dad and Lucius Malfoy were both Death Eaters, and though Zabini's old man wasn't a Death Eater himself he was a big supporter of the Dark Lord.

Just like Phoenix and Ambrosia Frost.

Violet sighed.

They talked for what seemed to be ages, and then one of Violet's friends walked by, not noticing her friend in the compartment the first time but seeing her the second time she walked back to her carriage. She spotted Violet, who waved at her, and then Emilie stuck her head in the door and asked if she could join in, with a cheeky smile and a raised eyebrow.

Emilie Lefebvre was a small, curvy girl with messy dark brown hair and big, brown eyes and extremely pretty features. Her nose was just the right size, her heart shaped face framed by the long wavy brown hair and her puppy dog eyes were crowned with thick dark eyelashes. She had a sprinkling of freckles on her ochre skin and she was clumsy and hardly ever serious, and laughed at almost everything. She was hilarious.

She knew all about Violet and her deal with Slytherin – she didn't bring it up but she knew how it was. She had been around Violet and her Slytherin friends long enough to know them quite well, and they liked her as well. Who didn't like Emi?

Emi sat down, squirming her way between Violet and Theodore, smiling at him as he shuffled away. Theo was a nervous sort of boy. Emi jumped right into the conversation, and said to Violet, "So, why didn't you come find me? We've had hours on the train!"

"Don't take it personally, Emi," Violet said. "It's not you I'm avoiding, it's everyone else."

Emi laughed. Soon they all settled down again, and before they knew it, it was time to get changed into their robes. It was getting dark outside. The boys excused themselves for a moment, to get changed in their own compartment that they'd left behind, and the girls began to get changed, when there was a knock on the door.

They paused. Had one of the boys left something behind?

"Who is it?" Emilie asked cautiously yet casually.

A voice replied, "It's Fred Weasley. I was just wondering if we could grab out our trunks? We left them in there when – when we left this morning."

Emilie frowned at Violet. "They were in here with you?"

Violet shook her head. "Long story. Tell him we're getting changed."

Emi pulled a face but she did as Violet asked. "Fred, this is Emilie. Emilie Lefebvre. We're getting changed at the moment. Can you come back a little later?"

"We?" was all he asked.

"Violet and me," she said, rolling her eyes.

"Right," said Fred. "We'll be back later then."

Emilie mouthed, 'we?' to Violet, who replied, "They're twins, remember?"

"Oh right."

They finished changing, and then they took a quick stroll down the carriage, and Violet hoped that she could avoid the twins if they went back to get their trunks. Unfortunately, she could see them coming back down the carriage towards them. They'd clearly chosen the wrong way to go – they'd gone up the carriage instead of down. How ridiculous.

Violet tugged on Emi's elbow. "Can we go back? The other way, I mean?"

Emi sighed. "Don't be silly. Just – you know, what's wrong anyway? It can't be that bad. You don't even know them."

"I know enough," Violet hissed, but it was too late to turn back anyway. She looked at the floor as she walked past, as they brushed past each other in the narrow passage way and she only glanced up once. She didn't know which twin was which, but both of them looked at her, not smiling, not saying anything. Her eyes darted away quickly, breaking eye contact.

Why were people always disappointed with her?

She pushed the thought away as they bumped into Draco again. He smiled, but then saw Violet's eyes. Her eyes always gave her away. His smile faded, and he said, "Hey, are you okay?"

"I'm fine," she said, smiling to back up her claim. Draco let it go for now, but he knew by the way he touched her arm gently that he wasn't forgetting about it.


	5. Chapter 5

**The Ravenclaw**

_Chapter Five_

Later on that night, in the Great Hall, Emi and Violet sat with some of their other friends, Cho and Marietta, and Miranda. Violet didn't mind Cho, but she wasn't sure about Marietta. She didn't voice her dislike for her but she just put up with her. She was a friend, after all. A friend of sorts. Miranda was much the same – just a mutual friend who Violet was quite happy to spend time with, but not enough time to actually have to interact with her that much.

They talked as they ate their food, the feast nothing less than amazing as it was each year. Violet didn't have much of an appetite but she ate anyway, telling herself it'd make her feel better. It didn't.

Violet looked over her shoulder at the Slytherin table just behind her, and Draco looked over his shoulder at the same time. Barely a few feet away, yet so very far apart. She smiled and he grinned through a mouthful of mashed potato. Violet rolled her eyes at him.

She turned back around and looked at the other tables. The Hufflepuffs were just as giggly and ridiculous as they were last year – if they were good at anything, it was being friendly. Violet had tried to figure out what their strength was, but it lay mostly in their being social and charming.

She looked past the Hufflepuffs and over at the Gryffindor table, and her face fell slightly as she saw Fred and George laughing with their friends. Violet recognized Lee Jordan, and Katie Bell, Oliver Wood and others. She felt suddenly that she wanted to be in that group, wanted to be accepted by them. She'd really liked the twins. It was just a shame that they hated her.

Violet saw one of the twins look up suddenly, and she turned her face back down to her plate, hoping he hadn't seen her watching them.

* * *

Later that night, after staying late in the Great Hall, talking about holidays and new haircuts and classes that they had that year, Violet walked along with Theodore, knowing his common room was in the other direction but enjoying his company nonetheless.

"You might actually have to do some hard work this year, Theo," Violet joked. She knew Theodore was lazy, but smart enough to pass his O.W.L.s easily.

He snorted, and said, "Hardly. I got top marks last year, I think I was the smartest kid in Slytherin."

"I'll give you a galleon if you can top Hermione Granger this year," she said, knowing he'd take on the challenge without a second thought.

"You're on."

They walked a bit more, before they reached the stairs that led to the Ravenclaw dormitories. Violet looked up the stairs, glanced at her pocket watch (a gift from Snape for her fourteenth birthday) and decided she'd rather keep walking with Theo for a while. They passed the stairs and Violet began to walk Theo to his own common room, down in the Slytherin dungeons.

When they reached the stairway that led down to his dormitory, Theo looked down at Violet sort of sadly. "Are you alright, Violet?" he asked. He didn't call her Phoenix anymore. It was easier if he didn't.

She nodded. "I'm fine. Just getting used to school again."

Theodore pulled her into another one of his hugs, wrapping his long arms around her. She didn't even reach his chin. He was quite tall, and Violet thought he was too skinny.

He smiled sort of sadly and said, "Alright, well. I guess I'll see you tomorrow."

"Sleep well, baby Theo," Violet teased.

He grinned. "Not a baby anymore, cuz." And with that, he made his way down the stairs.

She turned, and began to walk back to the staircase. She walked quickly, not because she was in a hurry but because it was just a habit. Violet always walked fast. It's probably from hanging out with long-legged Slytherins all the time.

Just as she was thinking that, a cold voice behind her said, "Lingering around the dungeons, were we, Miss Frost?"

Violet spun, her dark hair whipping around her neck, and then she saw Snape, his stony face watching her. She put a hand on her chest, her heart beating double-time, and said, "Geez, Professor, don't scare me like that."

The corners of his lips twitched in a smile. "Sorry, Violet. Wouldn't have happened if you were in your dormitory already."

"Nice to see you again too, sir," Violet grumbled.

"Indeed," he said, coming up beside Violet as he began to walk her back to her dormitory. "I trust your holidays were well?" He was still polite and blunt as ever, but Violet knew that he didn't converse with any other students. He knew her situation and understood her feelings. She trusted him.

"As well as they could be," Violet replied. "And yours?"

"Tedious as ever," he responded, and she smiled, but it faded when he said, "Your father came to see me a few weeks ago."

Violet had to tell her legs to keep walking as they threatened to stall beneath her. "Oh, really?" She made herself say, her voice shaky. Violet didn't like talking about her father.

"Yes," Snape replied. He seemed morose. "He wanted to – know how you were doing, so to speak."

"He wanted to –" Violet repeated, but she choked on her words. Then, she became angry. "I hope you told him I'm doing just fine without him?"

Snape glanced down at her, and he said, "No. I told him that you were one of the best students in your year, and I said nothing else. It wasn't a long conversation."

And then, Snape said, "He sends his best wishes."

"How thoughtful," she mumbled.

They had finished going up the first set of stairs, and Snape said, "I have to go back down to my office. Will you be alright?"

"Why does everyone think I can't look after myself?" Violet asked, sighing.

Snape raised a hand, about to pat her on the shoulder or something, but he let it fall and said in his cold, quiet voice, "Because you can't. Sleep well, Violet."

She was a little surprised at this show of compassion (more compassion than Snape usually showed, anyway) and continued walking to her dorm.

Violet heard footsteps on the fourth floor corridor, where the dormitory was. She didn't think anything of it, as she walked along and turned the corner after she had finished climbing the last set of stairs, and she stared at the floor as she always did when she walked along.

Then, the footsteps stopped, like the person had come to an abrupt halt, and when Violet looked up and saw the flash of red hair she came to a sharp halt as well.

They stood there sort of frozen, staring at Violet. She didn't know which was which. She saw their bright green eyes in the darkness of the corridor, and they said in unison, "What are you doing here?"

One of them held a piece of ratty parchment in their hand, and he quickly stuffed it in his pocket. The other had his wand out and a dim glow was coming from the end of it.

Violet didn't reply for a moment before she managed to stutter, "My – my dorm is just along –"

She didn't finish the sentence. Instead, Violet just mumbled an apology and turned her eyes to the floor as she began to walk along again, but as she walked past, the closest twin reached out for her arm and took a hold of her wrist, stopping her from moving any further. Violet let out a small gasp at his tight grip and he said, staring at her intently, "What were you doing with Snape?"

"He was – he was taking me back to the dormitory – but he said he had to go to his office –" Violet stammered, trying to pull away. Nobody except for Theo and Draco knew about her friendship with Snape, and she planned to keep it that way.

They frowned down at Violet, and then she frowned back. "Hang on – how did you know I was with Snape?"

They didn't reply. Her eyes narrowed, trying to figure out what they had been doing. "Were you – were you following me?"

The twin holding Violet's arm let go suddenly, and she stumbled backwards, cradling her hand to her chest. The other twin said, "None of your business."

"It most certainly is my business," Violet retorted.

He just gave her one last glare before walking away, not replying. The other followed, with a slightly different look in his eyes, like he was trying to figure her out rather than blatantly hate her.

Violet turned away as they walked from her, and then she made my way to the common room, not staying up for first night celebrations, just making her way quietly up to her dormitory and she changed into her pyjamas, slipping into bed quietly and doing her very best to fall asleep.


	6. Chapter 6

**The Ravenclaw**

_Chapter Six_

The next few days went by without much excitement. Violet was studying DADA, Potions, Transfiguration, History of Magic and Astronomy. Violet was also taking care of magical creatures, and she loved it. She knew that she probably could have taken a different class instead, something a little more useful and perhaps educational, like ancient runes or something, but she loved CMC. It was much more interesting than ancient runes.

That day, they were studying salamanders, taking them out of the flames and feeding them pepper and chilli. It wasn't exactly difficult, but it was fun. Hagrid promised that they'd be allowed to look after some hippogriffs and maybe a kestrel or two, if they could see them at all.

After taking care of her own slightly skittish salamander, the class ended and Violet made her way back up to the castle, her books in a large bag that she slung over her shoulder. She was walking through the front door and through the front hall, when she turned a corner and crashed into someone. The person kept their balance but Violet felt herself swaying but whoever it was had caught her arm and held her steady. She was already stammering an apology when she looked up and saw who she'd run into.

"Hey, Violet," said Rodger. Violet knew Rodger Davies from the Quidditch team. They had been pretty good friends last year – Violet was pretty good on a broomstick and she'd earned his respect.

He smiled, handsome (and conceited) as ever, and said, "Sorry about that."

"Oh, it's alright," she said, "I should watch where I'm going."

Roger let go of her arm and said, "So, are you free this Saturday?"

"Yes..."

He went on. "Good, because we need to train hard. I really want to win the Quidditch Cup this year, at least to come close."

Violet managed a smile. "Yeah, no worries. Let me know what time, alright?"

Roger grinned. "I know it's ours, this season. We're gonna make it." He patted Violet on the shoulder and strode away, and Violet laughed inwardly. He was a bit weird sometimes.

She made her way to her potions class.

* * *

Potions was by far Violet's favourite lesson. Apart from the fact that she was Snape's favourite, she was very gifted at potions. She was careful, and she knew how to make a potion work. She was bright, and logical, and thoughtful.

She was in advanced potions already – Snape had requested she be moved into the sixth-year's potions class. She ran to the dungeons, worried she would be late after having to walk from the grounds and then bumping (literally) into Roger Davies, and she was indeed late, but Snape simply said, "Late, Miss Frost? Make sure it doesn't happen again." The sixth years were aghast that he hadn't taken off any house points. He almost always did when a student was late.

Violet didn't know anyone well enough to sit next to anyone – only a few from the Quidditch team and friends of friends. It was only the Ravenclaws today, not a joint class, so she sat at her own desk down the back of the class, hoping that she could stay unseen for the most part, but the class were already whispering and murmuring.

"A fifth year in our class?"

"What's she doing here?"

"Must be a mistake."

She zoned out the voices and listened to Professor Snape as he gave out instructions. "You will today be making an Elixir to induce Euphoria. Turn to page eighty three in your books, and you will find the ingredients in the cupboard. No dawdling, we have a fairly short lesson today so I trust you all to work diligently lest you wish to stay and finish your potion at lunch..."

The sixth-years were already hurrying towards the potions store, grabbing the ingredients needed to make the elixir, Snape walking past them as they scurried around, and he said, "Remember, only add the porcupine quills after you've taken the cauldron off the fire... we wouldn't want any accidents, would we, Cooper?"

Laurence Cooper glanced up at Snape, wondering why he'd been singled out, but he did have a terrible reputation for ruining his potions.

He walked to where Violet stood, and he said, "Because you haven't finished your fifth year potions lessons, you will be combining the curriculum and learning potions from both fifth and sixth year potions. Obviously this will require a little more concentration..."

"I can do some more study in my spare time," Violet said. "I'm quite capable, Professor."

"So it would seem," he said dryly. "You will be making a Draught of Peace – I think you should do just fine. You'll notice that it requires a little more watching than other potions, make sure you have all the ingredients before you begin. You do have a habit of running back and forth from the cupboard."

"Will do, Professor."

Violet began rolling up her sleeves, as she liked to do when she was in potions class, and Snape said, "Violet, what happened to your wrist?"

Violet frowned, and then glanced down at her wrists, and saw that the right one had a deep, blotched, blue-black bruise around her wrist, like some sort of brand or bracelet. She said, surprise, "Oh, I don't know. I don't remember –"

Then, she remembered when one of the Weasley twins had latched onto her yesterday, when she had walked by them. She frowned, not having remembered being held that hard. She shook a strand of hair out of her eyes, and said quietly, "It's alright, Professor, it'll fade away. It doesn't even hurt."

Just as she said that, Roger Davies walked through the door, and he walked towards where Snape stood and said, "Sorry, Professor, I was talking to Professor Flitwick. I have a note."

Snape glanced down at the note in disdain, and said, "Very well, Davies. You are concocting a Euphoria Elixir. Be sure not to waste time."

"Of course, sir," he said, and then Snape walked away and Roger turned to Violet and said, "You're in sixth-year potions class? Wow, you must be really good at it."

Violet managed a half smile as Roger dumped his books on the floor next to hers. "I try," was all she said, as she made her way to the cupboard to get the things she needed.

Snape was busy wandering around, breathing down the back of the student's necks, putting them on edge as he loved to do. He had eyes like a hawk.

Violet took her bundle of ingredients, her long fingers able to hold a great number of bottles at a time. She was especially graceful in a potions room – she was excellent at the subject.

Roger Davies wasn't exactly great at potions, but he was clever. And charming – charming enough to get Violet to help him when he needed it, even when she was supposed to be watching her own potion, which still turned out perfect in the end.

Roger's turned out good enough in the end as well, with only a few grim remarks from Snape. He knew Violet had helped Roger, but he didn't say anything. He was always on Violet's side.

Class ended rather quickly, with only a few small accidents. Snape was forever infuriated by the clumsy, difficult students he had in almost every class, but a quick wave of his wand and the problem was solved. The student, who was none other than Laurence Cooper, had earned himself a detention though.

"I did tell you to only put the quills in after you'd taken it off the fire, did I not, Cooper?" Snape asked tediously.

"Yes, sir."

"Then it is entirely your own fault, is it not?"

"Yes, sir."

Laurence was not the most adequate of boys, but he was at least honest. He was a good friend of Roger's.

After all the other students had filed out after class, Roger saying he'd see Violet later to talk about Quidditch, Snape gave Violet a few glass vials to put her potion in.

"Are you sure, Professor?" she asked, as he held them out to her.

"Positive, Violet," he replied. "The potions you brew are some of the best I've seen. It would be a waste for them to sit in my cupboard and not be used. You might as well take them yourself." He raised a sceptical eyebrow at her. "Maybe you should take a few for Davies' potion also, seeing as you almost entirely did it for him."

Violet just smiled, a little embarrassed at being caught out. "I was hoping you hadn't noticed. He's a friend, what was I supposed to do? Let him suffer the consequences of an insufficient potion? You should try not striking fear into the hearts of your students occasionally, Professor."

He simply stared at her for a moment, as though he was questioning her seriousness. She just smiled. She could backchat him all she liked and he would never touch a hair on her head.

As she was moving the Draught of Peace from her cauldron to the vials using a nifty spell that Snape taught her, he said, "Tell me, Violet, do you have your own potions set?"

She nodded. "I do. I shrunk it to fit in my trunk, but I haven't had a chance to use it yet."

"You are welcome to bring it down here whenever you like," he said, "And help yourself to the ingredients."

She smiled. "You're too nice to me, Professor."

"I'm allowed to have favourites," he said coolly, but again a small smile played on his lips. He had always been good to her.

He was putting the ingredients away that a lazy student had left behind when he said, "I didn't get to tell you about the rest of the conversation I had with your father."

Violet froze. She wasn't sure she wanted to know.

Snape went on. "I don't know if he ever told you this, but I am your legal godfather."

Violet's head snapped around as she stared at Snape, who had turned back and was standing by his desk.

Violet couldn't believe it. Why hadn't she ever been told?

"I thought – I thought the Malfoy's were my godparents," she managed to say.

Snape seemed to hesitate. "Not by law. It says on your birth certificate that I am your legal guardian." He was quite tense. It was quite an awkward topic, for some strange reason.

Violet frowned. "What does that mean?"

"It means that if anything happens to your parents – or to Cordelia – you are to live with me."

"I'm not exactly living with Cordelia – I'm just having a really extensive sleepover."

Snape's mouth twitched. "I just thought you should know."

Violet half smiled. "Well, you've always looked after me. I should have guessed..."

Her sentence trailed off and Snape said, "I would have healed you and looked out for you whether I was your godfather or not."

Violet was a little surprised at that. "…Why?"

"I was an outcast when I was at school, and I know how hard it is to find help. I had one friend, but I – I made mistakes." He shook his head. "I don't know whether I'm your friend, or whether I'm just trying to help you not make those mistakes. Maybe you will turn out better than I have."

"You've turned out alright," Violet said. She knew he was talking about Lily Evans. She had always been nice to him. He loved her a lot. He'd only told Violet about Lily a few times, about how she'd always been nice to him, always been his friend even when her own friends disliked Snape.

Violet reached out her hand, about to reassure him in a way, but she hesitated. She wasn't sure what to do. But then Snape reached out his own hand, and he did touch her arm, and he said, "Thank you, Violet. You're what keeps me sane now," he said with a grim smile, but his mouth only twisted around the effort to seem happy. Violet knew he often drank himself to sleep to try to numb the memories.

Violet smiled sadly and she reached out her other arm and took his hand in hers, the hand on her arm. She wasn't good at communicating her emotions either but she tried, and it seemed to work. She said, "Thanks, Professor."

"Severus," he said.

Violet nodded. "Thanks, Severus."

He let his hand fall away from hers and he said, "Run along, Violet. You'll miss lunch."

Violet nodded, and she managed one last smile before she left the dungeons, going up to the Great Hall.


	7. Chapter 7

**The Ravenclaw**

_Chapter Seven_

She didn't want to hang around the hall – she had to go get her things ready for her astronomy theory class. She quickly ate a sandwich and a muffin, and then made her way back up to her dorm, but on the way out of the Great Hall she was confronted.

By none other than a Weasley twin.

"Why are you always hanging around Snape?" he asked sharply. Violet stumbled backwards, taken aback by his sudden attack on her.

"Wh-what?" she stammered. "You've been following me again?"

"So what if I have?" he said. "You are going to get hurt. Spending time with Slytherins is dangerous to your health, especially for a defenceless Ravenclaw girl," he said, and then he seemed to look her up and down as though he were judging her strength. She was more than capable with a magic, but he didn't seem to register that. She had been one of the crown jewels at the duel club.

"At the minute, it looks like you're going to damage my health the most," Violet retorted, having regained her composure. "Why do you care who I hang out with anyway?"

"Because you're a nice kid, and I don't like you hanging out with Snape and Malfoy and all the other stupid Slytherins," he snarled.

Violet flinched. She was meant to be one of those stupid Slytherins. No matter what she did, she couldn't fit in. She wasn't a Slytherin like she was meant to be, and wasn't good enough for Ravenclaw or even for the Gryffindors. She was just an outcast, like Severus said. She was alone. No matter how much Severus or Draco tried, they couldn't ever be with her all the time. Nobody could.

The Weasley twin must have seen the tears welling in her eyes, and he was about to say something else but Violet didn't wait around to hear it as she spun and ran away, down the corridor.

* * *

Draco was late for lunch, because he had skipped second period and had been playing cards with Blaise. Exploding Snap, in fact. They knew they had better things to do than be in DADA with that crazy Moody guy. He was probably just spending his time creeping out the students again – not that he wouldn't like to see him throw a hissy fit at Harry Potter. Oh, Draco longed for the day when somebody (other than Snape) didn't praise him like some sort of deity.

He was walking towards the Great Hall when he heard the crying coming from the empty classroom nearby, and he was just going to ignore it when he heard a familiar sniffle and a small choking sob that he swore he'd heard once before.

He had to check. He'd only heard her crying once, but it sounded so similar...

Draco flicked a piece of platinum blonde hair out of his eye and he peeked into the classroom, looking for the crying person, and when he saw who it was he pushed the door open and walked in.

Violet jumped and spun, her hand shooting to her mouth to suppress a cry. Her eyes were red and swollen and her cheeks were wet with tears. She had been leaning on one of the desks when he walked in.

Her shoulders relaxed and she let out a shaky sigh of relief when she saw Draco, and he said, "Oh, Phoenix, what's wrong?"

He walked over to her and pulled her into his arms and she began to cry again, sobs wrenching through her. She seemed so fragile to Draco at that moment, as he held her, cradling her in his arms.

She didn't say anything for a while, and Draco gently said "Shh, it's okay," a few times, just to reassure her. He was a good comforter, but Violet was almost always upset over something. With good reason.

She buried her face into his neck and said, "I don't want to be here, Draco. Nobody wants me..."

"What do you mean, Phoenix?" he asked, frowning. He gently tipped her face up to look at him but she pulled away, not able to look at him.

"I don't – I'm not right. I'm supposed to be in Slytherin but I'm not. I-I'm an outcast in Ravenclaw and I have no other f-friends. I mean, I do, but they're not – they don't really know me. And they wouldn't care if I left. The – the Gryffindors th-think I'm some sort of Slytherin try-hard or something. They hate me. Everyone hates me."

She began to cry again and then Draco pulled her closer, and he said, "Phoenix, don't talk like that. It's not your fault... and people do like you. You don't know what you're saying."

"I don't want to be here anymore," she said shakily. "I can't stand it here. Severus knows about it but he can't help me..."

"Severus?" Draco said. "Since when do you call him Severus?"

"He's my godfather," Violet replied quietly.

Draco raised his eyebrows. "I never knew that."

Violet didn't say anything.

Draco said, speaking into her hair, "What set all this off? Did somebody – did someone say something?"

But she shook her head the slightest, and said, "I can't tell you, because you'll go do something stupid."

"Of course I will. You're my best friend."

Violet sniffed. "Don't worry. I'll get over this..."

They both froze when a voice at the door said in a sharp tone, "Well, well, well, look at who is getting some alone time with her prince charming."

Draco looked up and Violet tried to pull away but he was holding her too tightly. The Weasley twins stood in the doorway, glaring at the two beside the desk.

"They've been following me," Violet whispered, so only Draco heard her.

He let go of her, and then stood in front of her as he could see that the twins had their wands in their hands. One of them was holding an old, yellowed piece of parchment in the other hand.

"What do you want?" Draco snarled. "Haven't you already hurt her enough?"

One of the twins frowned, confused, and the other's eyes narrowed. "It's her own fault. She shouldn't get involved with you."

"It's none of your business, and it's not her fault at all," Draco snapped. "You don't know a thing about Violet Frost."

That was exactly the same thing that Violet had said about Draco on the train – _you don't know a thing about Draco Malfoy. _She looked up at him, blinking in surprise, and then back at the twins.

"Enlighten us then, Malfoy," the front twin snapped. "Why is she your little slave?"

Malfoy's nostrils flared and his upper lip curled, but he didn't say anything cruel. He said, with a simplicity and elegance that only a Malfoy could deliver, "You ever heard of Phoenix and Ambrosia Frost?"

The twins froze. "What's that got to do with –" the front one said, and then he paused. They made the connection.

The twin behind him took a step forward so he was beside his brother, and he looked at Violet. "You're – you're Phoenix Frost's daughter?"

Violet drew a shaky breath, and she nodded just the slightest. The twins frowned in confusion, not anger, and they seemed to try to get their head around the idea. "Then why are you in Ravenclaw?" the first twin asked.

Violet looked down at the ground. She was ashamed, ashamed of her heritage and of being such a bitter disappointment to everyone.

"How dare you," Draco hissed. "Her own father beat her half to death when he found out she wasn't in Slytherin. Snape's more of a father to her than her real dad," said Draco bitterly. "She had nobody. She only had us for family and we were told not to speak to her. Her father won't even look at her."

Draco took a breath and Violet felt the tears running down her cheeks again, spilling over her eyelids. "So I reckon you should give her a break, because she's done nothing wrong. She's friends with the Slytherins because she trusts us, and we look after her. We understand her, and you don't. She's just trying to fit in, trying to stay safe. You have no business questioning that."

The twins looked a little taken aback. The first twin's angry expression had faded, his face seemed fallen. The second looked sad, in a word. He looked like he'd done something very wrong, like something dreadful had happened.

"We didn't know..." the first one said, his words falling away.

"So you shouldn't have judged," Draco snapped.

He began to lead Violet out of the room, and as he pushed past the twins the second one said, "Violet, if there's anything we could do..."

"Just don't tell anyone," she said quietly. She'd rather not have her life story in the hands of the Weasleys, but it seemed to shut them up at least.

Then, Draco saw something catch the second twin's eye. Violet's sleeves were still rolled up from potions, and the bruise on her wrist was out on display.

Violet froze as he reached towards her, and Draco seemed to make a sharp hiss of distaste but he didn't do anything, as the twin ever so gently took her hand in his and ran his fingertips over the blotched, darkened skin, and he looked back up again and said, his voice unsure, his eyes wide with shock, "Did – did I do that to you?"

Violet opened her mouth to speak but no words came out, and she felt a tear fall from her eye, and burn down her cheek. She wrenched back her hand, cradling it to her chest, and then Draco snarled, "Don't you touch her," and then he began walking her back to her dorm, not turning back to look at the twins standing by the doorway in shock.

"You'll miss lunch, Draco," Violet said, still sniffling.

"Not caring," he said, as he held onto Violet's elbow, gently pulling her along. Her legs didn't seem to be working properly. Draco glanced down at her and she looked so pathetic, so tiny and weak. This isn't the Phoenix he knew. She was strong, or at least she used to be before she got to Hogwarts.

They had reached the Ravenclaw dormitory, and Draco stood by the door as he said, "I'm really worried about you."

"I'm fine," Violet insisted, smiling weakly and rubbing a few stray tears away from her eyes. "Really. I'll be fine."

Draco pulled her into his arms again and she clenched onto his robes like he was her everything. Like he was everything she wanted to be, the prodigal Slytherin child, the royalty, the pride of the family. He only held her tighter and then he said, "Come on, you. Go get cleaned up." He smiled a little and Violet released him, and then as he walked off, watching her the whole time, she waved a little, and he smiled and raised his own hand in goodbye.

He hoped she'd be okay.


	8. Chapter 8

**The Ravenclaw**

_Chapter Eight_

George stood in the doorway of the empty classroom, and he watched Draco walking Violet away from them, holding her close to him. He'd never thought...

"I never knew she was actually related to Phoenix Frost," Fred mumbled. "It never occurred to me."

"Me either," George replied. "She seemed so nice. It just didn't make sense."

"And now it does," Fred murmured. "It must be hard for her."

George didn't reply. Of course it was. They hadn't thought that there was something else, some other meaning for her strange behaviour – they just thought she was some sort of traitor, or had some strange liking for Slytherin boys. That had angered George – why was she so interested in Malfoy?

But now he knew why. She was alone. She was excommunicated and ashamed of herself. Malfoy and his cronies were probably putting their own safety at risk from their own families for being associated with her.

"I think," George said slowly, "We should apologize."

"I think you're right," said Fred.

George ran a nervous hand through his hair as he said, "Do you reckon she'll forgive us?"

"She's had worse," Fred replied bluntly. "But I don't know. She seemed really upset."

"She had a good reason," George said, with a mirthless laugh. "She has every right to hate us. We were bastards. Didn't even think..."

Fred sighed. "She'll be okay. Give her time." He then raised an eyebrow at his brother, and said, "You like her more than you're letting show, aren't you?"

George hesitated, and then nodded. "She's perfect."

"No, she's not," Fred noted. "She used to be." Then he walked off, taking Marauder's Map from George's hand, put it into his pocket and made his way to the Great Hall to give it back to Harry. George tugged at a strand of his long red hair and then followed after a moment's pause.

He had to apologize.

* * *

Violet had gathered her equipment for astronomy, and lunch was nearly over anyway. She didn't mind astronomy. She had a good memory so she was good at remembering the constellations, and because she was efficient and neat she was good at the charting. The day before she'd been up late, because astronomy students have to chart the sky every Wednesday at midnight.

So she pulled all of her charts together and grabbed her text books (_The Astronomer's Handbook_, _Exploring the Skies _and _The Upper School Guide to Constellations_), her pens and note books and made her way up to the astronomy tower.

They didn't take the theory lessons in the highest part of the tower – that was only for when they actually were watching and studying the stars. They used a small classroom instead, just below the telescope room.

Her astronomy class was almost always a combination of the Gryffindors and the Ravenclaws, as it was a smallish class. Astronomy was more popular with the Hufflepuffs, so they had their own class, with one or two Slytherins.

Violet had only just begun walking up the astronomy tower when she heard someone call out, "Hey, Violet!" She turned, and saw Emilie walking with Cho Chang, and a few other Ravenclaw girls, Marietta and Melinda Bobbin walking closely behind them.

Violet stopped on the stairs and smiled as convincingly as she could as they came towards her. Emilie had charts all over the place and her files were all out of order as she shoved them into her bag. "I was trying to explain the position of Ursa Minor to Cho but she doesn't seem to understand."

"What, with your charts?" Violet asked, laughing. "Good luck."

"She's hopeless," mouthed Cho as Emilie walked up in front of Violet, who smiled at Cho and nodded.

Melinda and Marietta walked up behind them as they talked about something or another, and Cho had begun talking to Violet about Quidditch when Emilie turned around and said, "Oh yeah. Roger Davies was asking after you at lunch today, Violet."

"Something about Quidditch, probably," Violet said. "He's been trying to organise a practice session on Saturday.

Cho shrugged. "He hasn't spoken to me about it. He actually didn't mention Quidditch at all."

Emi grinned, and raised a suggestive eyebrow. "Hmm, Violet, maybe he didn't have Quidditch on his mind after all."

Violet blushed, and said, "Don't be stupid, Emi. Roger's just a friend."

"Friend, sure," she teased, and then skipped up a few extra steps as Violet reached out to grab her. Emi giggled, and said, "Don't worry, I'm sure he'll let you know soon."

"Cut it out, Emi," Violet said. "I highly doubt that Roger, or anyone, thinks of me like that."

Cho frowned. "I wouldn't be so sure, Violet. Katie Bell said that George Weasley was going to ask you to the Christmas social at Madam Rosmerta's last year, but then you went with Blaise."

Violet froze, and Marietta nearly crashed into her. "Whoa, Violet, don't stop in the middle of the stairs or anything!" she said sarcastically, and walked past her. She didn't seem very happy.

Emi rolled her eyes as she walked up, Melinda not far behind. "She's got a thing for Davies. She doesn't like that he likes you."

"Did you say George Weasley?" asked Violet, shocked.

Cho nodded. "Didn't you know that?"

"But I – he – we didn't even talk last year," stammered Violet. "How did he know who I was?"

"Probably from the Quidditch pitch," shrugged Emilie, "Word is that the Weasley twins have dated almost everyone from Gryffindor anyway, so I reckon he would have been looking around at the other girls."

She grinned in her cheeky way again, and said, "Come on, this is astronomy with the Gryffindors. We could always ask Katie Bell." She spun and made her way quickly up the stairs.

Cho and Violet exchanged a glance before they chased after her, Violet's long hair trailing behind her as she called out, "Emilie Lefebvre, you get back here now! Don't you even think about it..."

* * *

As they sat at the old creaky desks in the astronomy theory room, Emilie had conveniently taken a seat beside Damian Applebury, one of the fifth-year Gryffindor boys. He usually sat beside Matthias Cuffe, his best friend, also in Gryffindor, but Matthias had taken his place beside Alice because he had a thing for her and Katie Bell, who usually sat beside Alice, was not in school today and was in fact at the hospital wing because she had a bad case of dragon pox which she needed to be rid of before the Quidditch season began.

So Cho and Violet had three desks which they could spread all their notes and charts over instead of just two as Emilie had taken a spot beside Damian. Violet didn't mind Cho that much. She was really nice to Violet.

Cho nudged Violet and mumbled, "Looks like Emilie is getting along just fine with Damian there."

Professor Sinistra was lost in her own little world so she never noticed when the children spoke. She often went over her charts and frowned at the papers she was marking. First years were terrible at astronomy, they hardly ever made sense when they wrote their homework. Not to mention the constellation charts were all over the place, too...

Violet looked to where Cho had pointed and saw Emilie talking quietly with Damian, who seemed more than a little cheerful that she'd sat with him. Damian wasn't the most handsome of boys, with a bit of a strangely shaped nose, but he was really nice. He got along well with almost everyone, excluding the Slytherins of course, but even then he didn't get into any trouble with them.

Emilie seemed to have taken a liking to him. Violet could tell when she faked a smile because there wouldn't be any dimples, but she could see the dimples from here. Damian was a pretty funny guy, so it seemed like they'd clicked.

"He's a nice guy," Violet said quietly.

"Oh yes," Cho agreed. "Very funny."

"Not sure about the nose."

"Hmm. His hair's not so bad. What colour would you call that? Chestnut?"

"I would have said copper."

"That's more of a light red brown, though. Chestnut is more brown."

"Maybe it's just the light. It's pretty dark up here."

Violet liked talking with Cho. The conversations were of a less serious manner and made it easier for Violet to take her mind off things. Cho was good company.

Cho smiled at Violet, and said, "You know, I think that Emi was right about Roger Davies."

"What about him?" Violet replied in a nondescript tone. She was trying her best to stay neutral.

"Well, he does talk about you a lot," Cho said, scribbling on her notebook with her quill. "He asks about you when you're not around. And you seem to bump into him a lot, don't you?"

"Well, that's just coincidental –" Violet began.

"Nothing Roger does is coincidental," Cho said, trying to convince Violet to think sensibly. "Stop pretending you're not gorgeous, and just accept the fact that boys do like you, Violet."

Violet looked at Cho with a strange expression. Cho drew back slightly, and said, "What's wrong, Violet?"

She simply shook her head. "Nothing. Sorry." It was just that nobody had called her gorgeous since she'd arrived at Hogwarts. Ambrosia used to call her pretty, and beautiful, would compliment her all the time. Phoenix would pamper her when he was around, but he only ever called her gorgeous when he had visitors, and he could show her off. He didn't show her off anymore.

Violet had simply been taken aback by the suggestion of her appearance, and she tried to get her head around the idea. She wasn't that pretty, she didn't think. Nobody had ever taken an interest in her...

_No_, her mind said quietly, _nobody has ever _mentioned_ their interest in you_.

Violet shook the thought away, and she felt her ears grow warm with a faint blush. She wasn't anywhere near confident enough to suggest that to herself.

Boys liked girls, but boys did _not _like Violet Frost.


	9. Chapter 9

**The Ravenclaw**

_Chapter Nine_

Later that night, after another few classes, Violet and Emilie made their way down to the Great Hall. They sat down the back of the hall, as they always did, but Violet noticed this time that Roger and Laurence had somehow moved slightly more towards the back where the girls sat, bringing a few other friends with them.

Violet ignored this once more and sat down as usual, listened to the few notices (something about Filch wanting to know who had put screaming stickers on his office door. They squealed and screeched every time somebody walked past and were damn near impossible to remove) and settled in to eating dinner. She did love roast pork, and the elves made simply spectacular gravy and apple sauce.

As she was helping herself to some potatoes, Emilie said, "So aren't you curious about the nature of my conversation with Damian in astronomy today?"

Violet shook her head rather forcefully. "I'd rather be oblivious, thank you very much."

But she didn't really have a choice. Cho and Melinda wanted to know, even if Marietta didn't as she politely but bluntly excused herself for a moment from the table to go to the loo or something. She really was taking the Roger thing to heart, Violet thought.

Emilie just rolled her eyes as Marietta walked away. "She's taking it so seriously. She's gonna hate you, Violet."

"I didn't do anything," Violet sighed. "I don't want his attention, she can have him for all I care."

"Shh, keep your voice down!" Cho said. "He might hear you, he's sitting closer than he was yesterday."

Violet rolled her eyes, and Emilie went on.

"So," she began, excited, "I was talking to Damian Applebury, as you well know, and he is an acquaintance of the Weasley twins, shall we say," she said with a smile, "And a family friend of Roger Davies too, apparently. I didn't know that but it was helpful information nonetheless.

"I was just casually talking, because I'm good at getting information out of people, and due to my great manipulation skills, he brought up the Weasley twins and then we started talking about them."

Emi glanced at Violet and with a small, ecstatic grin that only a school gossip queen could show, she said, "He's sure that George noticed you last year because apparently George talked to Damian about you, because we had double potions with the Gryffindors last year, remember? So we knew Damian a little back then anyway."

Violet frowned. Why had she never known about this? And how did he know her, anyway?

"And what about Roger?" Cho asked in a low whisper.

Emi's smile only grew as she said, "We started talking about Quidditch a little later, and he brought up the Ravenclaw team. So we talked about everyone on it, and we started talking about you, Violet. The first thing he said was, 'Oh yeah, the one that Davies has a thing for.'"

Cho and Miranda gasped in unison and Violet had to stop herself from bashing her head on the table. She just swallowed her mouthful of peas rather forcefully and gulped down some pumpkin juice, and said, "Wonderful."

"Aren't you excited?" Emi asked. "He's only the best looking boy in all of Ravenclaw."

"I suppose," Violet replied, with a small shrug. "I never really thought of him like that."

Cho stabbed a potato with a little too much force and hissed through her big smile, "Well start thinking like that! Think of all the fun you could have with a tall, charming and handsome boy like Roger."

Violet blushed. "Shut up, Cho," she hissed back.

Cho and Emi fell into a fit of giggles and Miranda choked on her beans.

"I'm glad you all find it so amusing," Violet muttered under her breath.

* * *

As they walked towards the dormitory, Draco and Theo fell into step with the girls.

"Having a nice evening, ladies?" Draco asked with a half-smile. Emi and Cho smiled back and Miranda just sort of looked a little shocked, her eyes slightly wider than before. Draco sometimes had that effect on girls.

"Very nice, thank you," Cho replied.

"And yourselves?" Emi asked.

Theo nodded and said, "Better now." He was getting better at the girl game, too. He smiled, and said, "You wouldn't mind if we borrowed Violet for a moment, would you now?"

The girls said they didn't mind, and they continued on to the dorms after Violet said she'd see them in a moment. She turned back to her Slytherin friends and Draco said, "So, how are you?"

"Alright," Violet replied. "The afternoon improved slightly after the Weasley incident." She glanced at Theo, and said, "Did Draco tell you?"

Theo nodded. "I wanted to come and see you but McGonagall said I couldn't leave the class."

Violet laughed. "You actually bothered asking her? You should know better by now." She took a small breath, and said, "So, astronomy improved my spirits. I should be fine now, if I stay out of the Weasley's way."

"Also," Draco said, "Just be careful. I've heard there's a certain mister Davies who has his eye on you. Both eyes, in fact."

Violet groaned. "I don't do boys! All that is probably not true anyway. We're just friends. _Acquaintances_."

"Sure," Theodore said with a grin. "Anyway, we can have a chat to him, if you want us to. Keep him out of your way. Bit of Slytherin treatment, you know."

"As if you need to make your reputation any worse," Violet sighed. "Don't worry. He's not going to ask me out, it's probably just a sham. He won't want to after all the publicity anyway. Everyone seems to know!"

Draco just smirked. "Don't deny it, you're prettier than you know." Violet blinked at the compliment.

Draco then pulled her into his arms for a gentle hug and he said, "Goodnight, Violet."

Theo did the same but his hug was rougher, as usual. "Sleep tight, cousin," he said in such a sweet way that made Violet feel sort of warm and fuzzy, but in a way that gave her a small fright. She wasn't used to such nice treatment. They must be treating her nicely to make her feel better... there hadn't been any taunts or teasing of any sort.

She waved goodbye to them as she continued up to the Ravenclaw dormitory.


	10. Chapter 10

**The Ravenclaw**

_Chapter Ten_

It was the middle of the night and Violet shot bolt upright in bed, beads of sweat on her forehead and a drop of blood on her lip where she'd bitten so hard during her nightmare. Her hands were clenched on the bed sheets and she slowly let them go, her knuckles white from the pressure. Her breathing was heavy and laboured, and her mouth felt dry as she tried to lick her cracked lips.

She swung her legs over the side of the bed, and hung her head down as she hunched her shoulders, trying to remember what she was dreaming about. She remembered a curse flying past her, just missing her, and another that seemed to be spiralling right towards her, growing so close it became blurry, and then there was pain and she was screaming...

Violet shook herself over and stood up, taking her wand from the bedside table and tucking it just inside the waistline of her pyjama pants. She wore long, stripy pants and a plain white shirt to bed. Guaranteed comfort.

She knew there was always a flask of water downstairs and glasses on the bench that Flitwick left during the night for the students. The flask never ran out of water. It was quite handy during times like this.

Violet didn't put any shoes on as she made her way down the stairs to the common room, her feet cold on the wood of the stairs and she trailed her hand along the banister as she didn't know if she was fully awake yet.

She was rubbing her eyes and wandering through the darkness when she reached the table by the fire which had gone out completely, and she took out her wand and said quietly, "_Lumos" _to see where the flask was.

All she saw was a pale face and wide eyes staring right at her. Her hand flew to her mouth as she muffled a cry and she fell backwards over one of the chairs, falling to the floor, her heart beating not double time, but triple time if not more.

She dropped her wand, the light having been lost, and she didn't move where she sat on the floor, still wondering what it was that had been standing there.

She couldn't see anything until another voice quietly whispered, "_Lumos_" as she had done before and then she saw the face again, only this time she saw who it was.

"Roger," she said with a shaky sigh, "Merlin, you scared me."

He smiled and said, "Sorry, Violet. I thought you could see me."

"No, it's too dark," she said in a hushed voice, as she rubbed her head. "Why don't you have a light on?"

"Good night vision," he replied just as quietly. "Been awake for a while." He stepped towards her and reached out, taking her hands and pulling her carefully to her feet. She noticed he stood a little too closely so she reached back down to pick up her wand, casually taking a small step away as she did.

"Why are you down here?" Roger asked.

"Needed some water," she said. "I – I was woken up."

"By what?"

"Nightmare."

She walked to the table and poured herself a glass, as Roger said, "Oh. Are you okay?"

Violet nodded as she took a drink, and then she said, "I'm fine."

She glanced up at Roger. "What are you doing down here anyway?"

"Curious?" he asked, smiling. "I'm a man of mystery."

"Whatever you say, Roger," Violet said sceptically.

She wasn't looking at him but he was watching her. It was like he was trying to catch her eye. He then said, "I guess you've heard about – what they're saying about me."

Violet frowned in confusion. "About you...?"

"Liking you," Roger finished. "I couldn't help but overhear your conversation with Emilie..."

"Not with the help of an eavesdropping charm, I hope," Violet said.

Roger smiled again at her casualness, and shrugged innocently, indicating he had used a charm. Violet had convinced herself that he didn't like her. It was all a rumour, just getting even more scandalous as it went around...

She was wrong, because then Roger said, "I had hoped to tell you myself, not via the medium of a hundred other people."

Violet froze, the glass halfway to her mouth and she put it back down on the bench again slowly, as she was afraid she would drop it. "Oh."

Roger stared at her. "Are you alright?"

"Yes, I'm fine, I just..." her sentence trailed off. "I was under the impression that it was some sort of joke."

"A joke?" Roger frowned, "What, a joke played on me or on you?"

"Either," Violet replied. "I mean, I didn't think that you would – that you would like me." She was glad it was dark or else he would have seen her blushing. Roger was incredibly handsome and popular, and even in his scruffy pyjamas he looked nice. Violet wouldn't say he was a god, like half of the other girls in Hogwarts, but she knew he was handsome enough. Violet couldn't imagine what she looked like, her hair must be a complete mess...

But surprisingly, she didn't feel attracted to him. He was gorgeous, no doubt, but she couldn't imagine herself having much else to do with him. She blushed again.

"Why ever would you think something like that?" Roger asked, but when he got no reply, he just asked a different question. "Well, do you like me?"

"In what sense?" Violet asked. "I mean, I think you're great. You're really nice. But I only know you on the Quidditch pitch, I mean, we're not really that close, are we?"

"That's why I want to get to know you better," Roger said with a small smile, and he reached up and traced his fingertips along her jaw line. He had stepped closer again.

"Re-really?" was all Violet could stammer.

"Mmm," Roger said, and Violet could feel his breath on her skin. "Do you suppose you could give me a chance?" He was tracing lines on the skin of her neck now. It felt somehow very strange, and Violet wondered if she was supposed to feel delighted or elated or something, because she wasn't. She was just fair freaked out.

Violet still wasn't looking at him, looking at the neck of his shirt instead as she said shakily. "I think – I don't know. It's confusing."

"Shall I give you some clarity?" Roger asked, but before Violet could respond, he had pressed his lips onto hers and she froze, going completely rigid. She had never been kissed before. It was, like when he had touched her before, very strange, and yet not at all delightful, as she thought it should have been. People kiss all the time, right? There had to be something she was missing. It was thrilling, nonetheless, and she felt like she was flying and being punched in the gut at the same time. More of the latter.

She then registered that his lips were moving against hers and the hand on her neck had slipped around to the back of her head and was holding her closer to him. He had dropped his wand on the bench and had moved that hand around to rest gently on her lower back, pulling her against him.

Violet still hadn't moved and then she felt her rigidness disappear as she thought, _might as well enjoy it while it lasts..._ and she moved her lips in a similar fashion against Roger's, trying to imitate what he was doing. It seemed to work and he kissed her more, a small groan sounding in the back of his throat.

Then, Roger stopped, and he brushed a strand of hair out of her eyes very gently, as he stared down at her. Violet pulled her hands away, like she had been caught touching somebody else's things, and she felt slightly guilty.

Roger then let her go and she felt herself shaking. He whispered softly, "Sweet dreams, Violet." He tugged her chin up with his hand gently and placed another small kiss on her lips, and then he was gone.

The kiss was very nice – but it was Roger. That bit was getting on Violet's nerves more than anything.

She didn't know how long she stood there but her legs were still shaking by the time she was going up the stairs.


	11. Chapter 11

**The Ravenclaw**

_Chapter Eleven_

The next morning at breakfast, Violet told Emi and Cho what had happened. She did it rather subtly, she thought, as there was a gap in the conversation and she said very quickly, blurting out, "Roger Davies kissed me last night."

Cho's cereal only made it halfway to her mouth and Emi swallowed her (probably still whole) mouthful of toast and then croaked, "What?"

"Roger Davies. Kissed me."

"Kissed you?" Cho repeated, eyes wide and a smile beginning to creep onto her face.

"Yes."

"Merlin," Emilie said, her usually loud voice soft and amazed. "That's amazing!" Pure amazement.

Violet nodded, and then took a bite of her toast. Cho asked, "So, what, are you a thing now?"

"He didn't say."

"Do it!" Emilie said in almost a shout, and a few heads turned to look at her, so she glared at them. She then said in a hushed whisper, "There's a Hogsmeade trip coming up – I wouldn't be surprised if he asked you out."

"Well, I don't know," Violet sighed. "I like him, but I never saw him as anything more than a friend."

"Roger Davies doesn't do 'friends'," Emilie said, slightly frustrated. "You don't know what you're saying."

Cho nodded. "We'll just have to wait and see," she said with an all-knowing wink.

* * *

At Violet's Potions class, Roger placed his things beside hers again with a half smile, and Violet saw a recollection of the kiss they had shared last night, and a tinge of red crept onto her pale cheeks. It was dark in the dungeon though, so she was grateful that they couldn't really see it anyway.

"Today you will make the Draught of the Living Death," Snape said coolly, "You will not be working in pairs today, you will stay at your own cauldron at all times. I don't need double the amount of a failed draught, as I know will undoubtedly happen anyway so I don't know why I even bother..."

Snape seemed to be drawling. Something had annoyed him, and Violet assumed it was probably Harry Potter. She might be wrong but she was usually right. Potter was annoying.

Snape was approaching the table to speak to Violet, so Roger scurried off to get his ingredients, to look busy. Snape glared at the back of his head and then turned back to Violet and said, "Making friends, are we?"

Violet looked down at her hands. "I suppose."

She saw Snape out of the corner of her eye, smiling in a sort of amused way. "I suppose friends is not the best word – but I'll talk to you about it another time." With a wave of his wand, he flicked open Violet's text book. "You will also be concocting the Draught. Challenging, but I think you will manage."

Violet nodded. "Yes, Professor."

Snape tapped his fingers on the desk and then walked away to frighten some of his students. Roger returned with handfuls of ingredients and said, "Snape likes you, doesn't he?"

Violet just smiled a little. "Why would you get that impression?"

She waltzed over to the ingredients cupboard and began getting things off the shelf. All the other students had got theirs already so the only ingredients left were way up the back of the shelf, or way up high. She reached up on her toes to get one off a high shelf, and then Roger was beside her, easily getting the bottle she was reaching for.

"Haven't you already got your ingredients?" Violet asked.

Roger just smiled. "It looked like you were struggling."

Violet rolled her eyes. "You'll use any excuse, won't you?"

"I most certainly will," he said quietly, and then darted in for a swift kiss, brushing his lips neatly against hers, nearly causing her to drop all of her things. He then reached behind her and snatched something else off the shelf, smiled and said, "Forgot the sopophorus beans."

Violet shook her head and said quietly, "You only need one, actually," and then walked out of the cupboard.

"Am I beginning to grow on you yet?" Roger asked quietly. "You seem quite ready to help me out." He grinned hopefully.

"Maybe," Violet replied simply.

Violet liked the idea of somebody wanting her attention, of paying more attention to her. It seemed to thrill her. She hadn't felt this important since before Hogwarts, when she was the pride of the family. She remembered loving that feeling, and she loved it now. She'd lost all of that, and whenever attention was drawn to her in her early years at Hogwarts it was for all the wrong reasons, so she'd avoided being the centre of attention as much as she possibly could.

It was different now, though. Violet wasn't being teased, or taunted. She was being admired, like she used to be. It made her feel good.

"Cooper," Snape suddenly snapped, "Do not put those snake fangs in your own mouth. And Angelo, stop swinging that knife around like a lunatic. We do not want another Gryffindor incident, though if it were you I would consider it a blessing." He sounded even more dry and evil than usual as he made his way to his desk to do something or another.

While Snape was at his desk, Roger leaned down and whispered, "Did you hear about that?"

Violet shook her head, and Roger went on. "In the Gryffindor's potion class, Cormack McLaggen spilled over Fred Weasley's cauldron – they were making the Draught as well. George was getting something from under the desk at the time and it spilled on him, and he was knocked out cold."

Violet's eyes went wide. She hadn't heard of this.

"See, it wouldn't have mattered if it had been anyone else," Roger said. "Fred and George are the best at potions, so Fred's Draught of the Living Death worked a treat." He smiled. "George is at the hospital wing. I haven't heard, but he'll be okay. Snape had the remedy prepared just in case something like this happened."

"That's horrible," Violet breathed. She was worried about George. She wasn't exactly friends with him – actually, she wasn't friends with him at all – but that was a very disturbing story.

Or was she _worried_ about _George Weasley_?

"He'll be okay," Roger said. "He's just recuperating."

Violet nodded, and then she continued cutting up her sopophorus bean. It was incredibly hard to cut. It nearly shot off the bench a few times as Violet tried to cut it, and then she had a brainwave.

She only needed the juice out of the inside. What if she could squeeze the bean, and not have to cut it? It would make it a lot easier.

Violet tried squeezing it but her fingers weren't strong enough. Roger raised an eyebrow at her, trying to figure out what she was doing, but she only frowned deeper. There must be a way...

She considered flattening it under a book, but she didn't want to ruin the book.

Violet frowned again, and then she picked up the knife. It was a rather large knife. It looked sturdy enough...

She put the bean down flat on the bench, and then with the flat side of the knife she pressed down on it. To her delight, the bean split, and a drop of juice that looked black but had the consistency of blood squeezed out of the gap. She picked it up and held it above her cauldron and squeezed hard with her fingers on the now broken bean, and the juice all leaked into the potion, sizzling as it did so.

Roger had raised both eyebrows now, and he said, "Quoi?"

Violet grimaced. "Being unorthodox. Don't distract me."

Roger shook his head, and said sighing, "Merde."

She didn't see Snape creeping up to stand beside her desk, staring weirdly at the bean held over the cauldron, and he made her jump when he said, "How did you do that?"

Violet blinked and said after she had recovered from the brief moment of shock, "Oh, I um – I pressed the bean with the blade. Gets the juice out better."

Snape stared at her with the same weird expression, and then simply walked away.

Roger shrugged. "It said to cut it in the instructions."

"Oh, and how's that going for you?"

Roger's nose twitched. "Just you wait. I'm doing fine."

"Sure."


	12. Chapter 12

**The Ravenclaw**

_Chapter Twelve_

After class, Roger was waiting around for Violet to get her books. She was dawdling on purpose so she could talk to Professor Snape, but Roger was being chivalrous or something, and waiting for Violet at the door. She waved him away, and when he didn't leave, she walked over to him and said, "Go on ahead, I have to talk to Professor Snape about something. I won't be long."

"You don't want me to wait around?"

"I'm sure Miss Frost will survive," said Snape coldly, appearing from nowhere, as was his habit. "This conversation does not require your presence."

Roger nodded sharply, and then smiled a little at Violet before going upstairs.

"A little clingy, isn't he?" asked the Professor, tipping his head towards the stairs.

"He'll learn," Violet sighed. "Any advice for trying to understand boys?"

"I was never a normal boy," Snape replied. "I wouldn't know."

"Thanks so much, Severus."

Severus smirked. "My advice? Don't date Davies. I don't know what you see in him."

"That's because you're a bitter and twisted old man."

"I resent that."

"Sorry, middle aged."

Snape scowled. "I was actually referring to the bitter and twisted part."

"Personally, I think they're two of your finest qualities."

"If you had been anyone else, I'd give you detention," he threatened.

"Do your worst," Violet said, sighing as she put her books back down on the bench.

Severus walked over, and he said as he flipped open the cover of her book, flicking through the pages, "By the way, Violet, why did you not cut your sopophorus bean today?"

Violet frowned. "Oh, well, I figured it would work better."

"Have you made Draught of the Living Death before?" he asked.

Violet hesitated before responding. "I know I'm not supposed to, but I make potions over the holidays. It's a hobby of mine. I hate having to cut the beans. I just sort of had a brainwave today."

Severus seemed to be thinking hard about something, and then he said, "It's just strange..."

"What is?"

He shook his head. "Nothing. Just an old man thinking out loud," he rolled his eyes at having to join in on the joke, and then he said, "Did you want some vials?"

Violet was surprised. "But this is a dangerous potion."

"Indeed, it is," Severus replied, fetching some vials from his desk with a wave of his wand, "And I trust you with it."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm just hoping that you'll have a delusional moment and perhaps slip some into young Master Davies' pumpkin juice."

"You're so evil," Violet said. "Anyway, I thought you said that only a professional could make this Draught."

"This is perfect," Snape said, "I tweaked it a bit, to make it so." He smirked again.

"What did you do?" Violet asked, suspicious.

"It's a secret," he replied, then said without a pause, "I stirred it once more."

"It said only seven times in the book," Violet said.

"And then you stir it once more the other way," Severus added. He raised an eyebrow at Violet's frown, and said, "Well, you proved the book wrong, didn't you? I know potions inside and out. This is my secret."

"Prepared to share your secrets with me?" Violet asked quietly.

"Somebody has to be my successor as the Lord of Potions," Snape said, as they watched the completely transparent Draught leaving the cauldron and sorting itself into the numerous vials. Another wave of his wand and the vials were all corked and labelled in neat, curved writing.

"Thank you, Severus," Violet said, as she put the vials into her bag.

"We'll make the Wiggenweld potion next lesson, so you have the cure as well," he said slyly. "Wouldn't want you causing a havoc with the potions now, would we?"

"I've always got you," Violet said with a smile and then, just before she left the dungeon, she turned and said, "Hey, Severus?"

He turned back and said in his cold, sharp voice, "Yes, Violet?"

"Is – is George Weasley going to be alright?" she asked nervously.

Severus stared at her for a moment, before saying in a slightly mocking tone, "Concerned for the health of Weasley, are we?"

Violet blushed, catching his meaning. "No, I was just wondering – you know, worried about – I just –" Her sentence trailed off into meaningless stammers.

The Professor raised his eyebrow the slightest, and said, "You will find Master Weasley in perfect health. I for one would not express your concerns to Davies – he might take offense."

"It's not like that, Severus," Violet said quietly.

"I'm sure," he replied. "Give Master Weasley my best wishes."

"How do you know I'm going to the hospital wing?"

Severus just glanced at her once more, and then said, "Have a nice afternoon, Violet."

Violet rolled her eyes, wondering how Snape always knew everything, and she left for the hospital wing.

* * *

She didn't know why she was going to see him. He had been so unfair to her, hurt her feelings so much that her defences had broken down and she'd let herself cry – she'd never let anyone see her cry.

So why was she going to see him?

Violet couldn't help but remember the way he'd been so nice to her on the train, before he had judged her and had found her in the company of Slytherins – it had seemed, for a while, that he liked her for who she was, not what she was or what she was supposed to be.

So she made her way up to the hospital wing, her free period which she usually spent in the library now being put to another use. Violet walked along, knowing where the wing was from many Quidditch incidents.

She walked along quietly, her shiny black lacy shoes making soft, barely audible taps on the floor with every step she took. She clutched a few textbooks to her chest, the ones that wouldn't fit in her heavy bag.

Violet saw the large double doors of the hospital wing and she made her way towards them, and then pushed open gently.

Madam Pomfrey wasn't there at the moment, but there was a note hovering just inside the door that said, "_I'm out for ten minutes. Sign the visitors book when you enter and DO NOT disrupt the patients if you are visiting_."

Violet diligently signed the book, and then she glanced around. George was all the way over the end of the wing, turned on his side towards the wall. Early afternoon light shone through a nearby window and it seemed to make his red hair shine even brighter.

Violet began to walk towards the bed, and then he shifted his weight slightly, just shuffling beneath the bed sheets in his faded blue striped pyjamas, and Violet hesitated. Was this such a good idea?

She kept going closer, and when she reached his bed, she peeked at his face and saw he was sound asleep. His face looked so calm when he was sleeping, his freckles dotted lightly across pale skin. He had deep bags under his eyes, though, like he was in desperate need of rest.

Violet sat at the chair beside the bed, and his back was still turned to her. She didn't know how long she waited for. She watched his body rise and fall the slightest as he breathed in and out, and watched the tiny movements he made as he shifted in his sleep. It was a peaceful sleep, or it looked like it.

She looked away from him, and then at the textbooks in her lap, and figured she could be better off elsewhere, studying instead of watching George Weasley sleep. She stood to leave, and then as she was walking away, trying to be quiet, she heard a voice – his voice – say, "Don't go, Violet."

Violet paused, and then she felt her heart hammering. He had woken up – _well, what were you expecting_? she thought, _You came here in the first place. He'll think you're a dolt._

She turned, and not looking directly at him, she said in a hushed whisper, "Um, I just – I wanted to – I was coming to see if you – if you were –" she stammered, but she couldn't form a complete sentence. She glanced up at his face and his eyes locked on hers, bright green and sparkling.

He frowned a little, confused, and asked, "You came to see me?" Violet nodded, and George then said, "Why?"

Violet opened her mouth to speak but she didn't know what to say.


	13. Chapter 13

**The Ravenclaw**

_Chapter Thirteen_

Violet didn't say anything for a few moments, and then she said nervously, "Well, I don't expect – I didn't think –" Finally, she sighed and said, "I don't know."

She brushed a bit of hair away from her face and after a long, awkward silence, she began to back away again and said, "I think I'll – I'll just go."

But George stopped her, saying, "No, don't go." He rubbed at his tired eyes, and said, "Come on, sit down. You came to see me, right?"

Violet's mouth opened again but no words came out, so she just sat down where she had been before. Another long awkward silence followed, before George said, "I guess you heard what happened then?"

Violet nodded, and then she said quietly, "Are you feeling okay?"

George smiled crookedly as he said, "Just really, really tired."

Violet felt the urge to smile back, but she didn't. When George yawned, she said, "Look, I don't want to keep you awake, I'll –"

She began to stand up but then George's hand shot out and caught her wrist, and he said, "No, don't go! Please," he added, his outburst a little louder than he'd expected.

Violet winced in pain, and looked at his hand on hers, coincidentally the wrist that was still bruised. George didn't let go, as he looked down at her slim wrist, his long, elegant fingers wrapped around it. He loosened his grip, and he ran his fingertips very lightly over her skin. "I'm so sorry," he said, speaking so silently it was almost a whisper.

Violet realised that George had been the twin outside the Great Hall, and he almost always stood behind Fred – it was George who had grasped onto her wrist the first night, and George who was the second twin during the classroom incident.

Gently taking his wand from the bedside table, George muttered a spell to heal the bruise, watching it fade away, leaving her skin pale again. Violet felt the tingle of healing magic and felt it rush through her veins.

After a moment, Violet realised that George was still holding her hand, and she gently slipped it from his hand and then stared at it in her lap, not looking up at him.

George sighed when Violet didn't say anything, and he said, "Violet, I am so sorry about what happened. I never meant to hurt your feelings, I just wanted to protect you. I've always been taught that Slytherins can't be trusted and I didn't want you getting hurt. I guess I hurt you while I was trying to help you."

Violet shook her head. "No, it's okay. I guess it was just a misunderstanding."

George frowned at her, and said, "How can you forgive me so easily? I don't even like thinking about all the things that I said to you, that we said to you."

Violet grimaced in a sort of sad way, and said, "I don't really know. I guess – I guess I couldn't stop thinking about on the train, how you and Fred were really nice to me. You seemed – seemed to like me for who I was, before you knew what I was."

"But we judged you for what you were," George said. "I still can't believe what an idiot I've been."

Violet managed a weak smile. "It's okay. I think it's just that I don't often get the prospect to find a friend. I just – I just don't want to lose that. I mean, we could be friends, couldn't we? I liked you. It was just a mistake, what happened. I've had worse," she added, trying to make him feel better.

"Worse?" George repeated, frowning deeply, "You had worse than that?"

Violet shook her head, saying, "Just – forget it. Don't worry."

George sighed. "Okay." He then smiled crookedly, looking so very tired, and said, "So, will you let me start over again? Have a second shot at winning your approval, and not screw it up this time?"

Violet smiled back. "One more chance."

George sat up straight, and then he reached out and took Violet's hand in his own and said, "Hello, my name is George Weasley."

"My name is Violet Frost," said Violet, "Pleasure to meet you, Mister Weasley."

"The pleasure is all mine," George said in almost a whisper, and then he pulled her hand up to his lips and pressed his smooth lips to her skin, his warm breath rushing over her skin and causing tingles.

When he looked up again, Violet realised that he'd pulled her closer with the movement. And in that same moment, Violet knew why she'd come to see him. He was everything she wanted, everything her family had never been to her. He was kind, he was funny, he didn't care about bloodlines and he wasn't pure evil. He didn't care that she wasn't who she was supposed to be because he didn't like who she was supposed to be and he didn't mind that she wasn't all that, that she wasn't perfect. He made Violet feel like she was right, for the first time since she'd been thrown out of her family, she felt that being so different wasn't all that bad.

But what would Roger say about that?

Just as she felt herself leaning towards him, so close she could hear his breathing, she paused.

"Oh," she said. "Um, I'm really sorry George, but this might have to continue some other time."

George's smile faded slightly. "Okay," he said. "I guess I'll see you around."

He was still holding her hand as she stood, and he only let go when she said, "See you soon, George."

George watched her walk away and she sighed the book, and she glanced back one last time before she left, with a tiny wave and a half smile. He smiled back, and then sank into his pillows.

What a relief.

* * *

As Violet walked down to the library, she passed Fred Weasley on the stairs. He stared at her for a moment, looking up at her as he walked up the stairs, and he seemed to hesitate slightly. Violet felt herself pause as well, before Fred nodded politely and said, "Hello, Violet."

Violet replied quietly, "Afternoon, Fred."

Fred tried to smile but it turned out as more of a grimace. "I never had the chance to apologise to you, for what happened."

"It's okay," Violet said, shaking her head nervously, "You've already been forgiven."

"That was quick," Fred laughed, and he walked up a few more steps until he was at eye level with Violet. He stared at her with a lingering smile and she had to look away. She was terrible at keeping eye contact.

Fred said quietly, "Really, though, we never meant for it to go so wrong. I mean –"

"Don't worry, Fred," Violet cut him off, "George explained, and I figured we could start over –"

Fred cut her off then, saying, "You saw George?"

Violet felt herself beginning to blush as Fred smiled lazily at her, and she said, "Well I – I heard about what happened. I thought – I just –"

Fred rolled his eyes. "Don't worry, kid. As long as you're okay, I don't care about the details."

Violet smiled meekly. "Thanks, Fred."

"Anytime," he said, and with one last grin he kept on walking towards the infirmary.


	14. Chapter 14

**The Ravenclaw**

_Chapter Fourteen_

When Fred walked into the hospital wing, Madam Pomfrey had returned and she running about with bandages and a few boxes of pills when he arrived. She glanced at him briefly, then said, "Sign the visitor book, Mister Weasley."

She seemed to let Fred see George more often than was usually allowed, based on the fact that they were twins. She actually quite liked them both, but she didn't tell them that.

Fred nodded at Madam Pomfrey, and then he signed the book in a messy scrawl and made his way over to where George lay, his eyes only just open as he began to drift off into sleep once more. The Draught of Living Death had a big effect on him – he might not be sleeping all the time but it took a lot of effort for him to wake up again. He had at least another half a week before his sleeping patterns became normal again.

Fred sat on the chair and George's eyelids opened, his eyelashes fluttering as he struggled to hold his heavy eyelids up. He smiled tiredly and said, "Hey, Fred."

"Feeling a bit sleepy, George?" Fred asked sarcastically, and he grinned.

"Just a bit," George replied, pushing himself up on the pillows so he was sitting up. "I don't think I'll be able to make it to Quidditch practice tomorrow."

"It's okay, turns out the pitch had already been booked anyway," Fred said, settling into the comfortable chair. "Ravenclaw got first dibs on the pitch."

"Good, I need to sleep," George said with a yawn, almost to confirm his statement. He then said, rubbing at one of his eyes, "Violet's on the Ravenclaw team."

Fred nodded. "She came to see you?"

"Briefly," said George, "I think she was watching me sleep. She seemed a little nervous, and she wasn't really sure why she had come." George paused, and thought for a moment. "She said something about the way we were friendly to her on the train – about liking her for who she was and not judging her for what she was."

"But we judged her anyway," Fred frowned.

George nodded. "Afterwards, we did, but she liked us at the start. I think she rarely has a chance to make friends, because of – because of what she's been through," he said, frowning as well. "So she has given us a second chance."

"Bloody decent of her," Fred ran a hand through his silky red hair.

George smiled tiredly. "She's so nice, Fred."

"Lucky for you she is."

"It's not luck, that's just who she is," George insisted. "She's perfect."

"You're gonna get in trouble saying stuff like that," Fred said quietly.

George frowned at his brother, confused. "What do you mean? I'm allowed to like her if I want to, right?"

"Yeah, but since you've been sleeping, there's been a bit of a – well, there was a progression. Of sorts." Fred was trying not to upset George and he was breaking it to him gently.

"What? What are you talking about, Fred?" George asked, worried.

"Roger Davies is what I'm talking about," Fred finally let out, and he sighed. "I'm sorry, mate, but he must have made a move or something yesterday or today or whatever. Word is that they're an item now."

Fred watched as George's face seemed to fall, his frown relaxed and his tired eyes seemed to lose their shine. "Oh," was all he said, and Fred tried his best to reassure him.

"But don't worry, mate," he said, "I don't reckon she likes him that much. I mean, he's a bit of a dolt, isn't he? Stupid git, he is. She's too good for him."

"She's too good for me," George sighed. "Roger's more in her league." He rubbed at his eyes again, and he said, "Don't worry about it. I mean, it'll work out, right? At least we're friends now..."

Without another word, his eyes closed and he fell back into a deep slumber. Fred sighed, and he moved George so that he was laying down, being careful not to wake him, and then Fred stayed beside him and watched over him.


	15. Chapter 15

**The Ravenclaw**

_Chapter Fifteen_

The next morning, Violet was awake bright and early (more like dark and dreary) to get ready for the first Quidditch practice of the year. She rubbed at her dry eyes and as she began to think of how tired she was she couldn't help but remember George, and comparatively, she had nothing to complain about.

Violet dragged her Quidditch gear out of her bag – her royal blue Quidditch robes, beige-brown breeches, dark brown boots and coppery brown shin and arm guards, gloves and a blue long sleeved sweater with a yellow stripe down the middle. She used to wear Cordelia's old uniform, when she first made the team, but Delia had bought her a new one for Christmas a few years ago.

She had also modified one of her shin guards so she was able to carry her wand. Violet quite liked her wand. Ten and a half inches, blackthorn, with a dragon heartstring inside. It was very strong, very sturdy. She had already placed charms on the shin guard with the straps to hold the wand so no matter what, it would not fall out. Very handy.

Violet pulled her hair back, tightly plaiting it so it wouldn't get in the way. She clipped it back and placed a few more charms to keep it in place. She had to, otherwise she'd be fixing her hair every five minutes. How was she supposed to get any practice at all when she was doing her hair?

She also dusted off her Quidditch cape and made her boots a little shinier. She wanted to make the team look good, even if it was just for practice. She knew Cho would do the same.

Cho had only just woken up and looked at the clock on the wall, and said in a sort of groan, "You're already dressed? Couldn't have waited for me, could you?"

"We'd both be late if that happened," Violet said with a wry smile. "You can be late all on your own. I'll see you downstairs."

Violet quietly walked down the stairs, and found breakfast waiting on the table by the fireplace, and Roger and Laurence Cooper, the team keeper, were already there. Laurence grinned through a mouthful of toast as he saw Violet coming down the stairs, and he said in a muffled voice, "Murnung Biolut."

Translated roughly as 'Morning, Violet,' so she replied, "Morning, Laurence."

Roger turned around and a smile appeared on his face as he saw Violet. He stood up and said, "Hey, Violet," and without hesitating he walked over to her and placed a rather eager kiss on her lips, holding the back of her neck with his hand as he crushed his lips to hers.

Violet stumbled and Roger broke the kiss to catch her, and Violet was blushing wildly as she glanced in Laurence's direction and said, "Um, good morning to you too."

Roger just grinned and Laurence stifled a laugh as Violet made her way to sit down with them, reaching out to get a drink, the cup filling with pumpkin juice the moment she picked it up. Wonderful charms work – Professor Flitwick sure did look after the Quidditch team.

"How did you sleep?" Violet asked, not addressing anyone in general.

"Well enough," Laurence replied, as Roger then said, "Do you want something to eat?"

Before Violet could reply, he said, "I can go get you something else if you want it, I mean, the elves are happy to get you some eggs or something –"

Violet cut him off. "Roger, I can feed myself," she said. He hadn't seemed this desperate before. Roger smiled in an embarrassed sort of way and said, "Sorry. Help yourself."

Violet smiled gratefully and put a few pieces of toast onto her plate. Laurence said, "Geez, Roger, don't stress so much. She's pretty capable, I think."

"More than capable," Violet added.

His eyes narrowed but he smiled as he said, "No need to be so cruel."

Violet paused but she only smiled back as she settled into breakfast. How was she going to tell Roger about George? She figured she might just say they were better off as friends...

Cho arrived not long after, as pristine as Violet had expected, her hair pulled back into a small ponytail and her morning face disappeared, replaced by a pretty smile and perhaps a touch of a toning charm. She always looked lovely.

The beaters, Harley Chambers and Jackson Bradley, clearly hadn't worried as much about their appearance as Violet or Cho as they lumbered down the stairs, rubbing their eyes and yawning grotesquely. Terry Boot arrived soon after, his childish grin and dark messy hair sticking out in all directions. Terry was a Chaser along with Roger and Violet, and he'd grown significantly taller over the holidays.

Once they'd all eaten breakfast and were ready to go out to the pitch about twenty minutes after, Roger led them out of the common room and down towards the school grounds, to make their way to the Quidditch pitch.

Violet and Roger both had a Nimbus 2000, and Cho had a Nimbus 2001, as she was the seeker. The other broomsticks consisted of a few older Nimbus models, the beaters flew on sturdy Cleensweeps and both Laurence and Terry had a Comet 260. Not nearly as fast as a Nimbus, but they lasted forever, plus Terry had a sneaky habit of darting rather than using full on speed tactics. It was useful for the team.

Violet had saved up so much money to buy her Nimbus 2000 – she used to have a Cleansweep Ten and she had no idea how she'd made the team with such a broomstick. Cordelia had wanted to buy her a new one but she didn't have the money, so she had advised that maybe Violet should get a job.

So, in the holidays after her third year at Hogwarts, Violet got a job in Diagon Alley, at Flourish and Blott's. She worked at the register, and she knew the shop inside out before she even began working there so she had a good idea of where everything was. They often needed helpers during the holidays and they payed well. After a few weeks of working every other day, she nearly had enough money to buy a Nimbus 1700, but then Delia got a pay rise from her job at Gringott's (defence system charms assistant) and she pitched in an extra bit of cash so that Violet could afford the Nimbus 2000. Very spiffy, she thought.

Not nearly as good as Harry Potter's Firebolt, which she longed to try out one day, but she knew that playing Quidditch wasn't always about the broomstick. It was the skill required, and Violet was really good at Quidditch. She didn't like to brag, but she was good.

They got to the pitch and they began to warm up with a few laps. Violet stretched her legs and her back before getting on her broomstick, and Roger watched as the others all mounted their brooms and took off, the cold wind biting as they swiftly shot through the air, flying around the pitch, in and out of the stands.

Roger looked down at Violet and said, "Not too tired, I hope?"

Violet shook her head. "No, just a small cramp in my back from waking up so damn early," she said with a mock glare in his direction. "It'll pass."

"I hope so," Roger said, and then he looked down at Violet and reached out to touch her cheek. "Sorry about kissing you before, but I can't help myself." He grinned and then stole another kiss.

Violet felt a little frustrated at him. What did he think she was, some sort of toy? "Cut it out," she said, and then took off with a sharp kick, darting away with Roger not far behind.

She loved flying. It made her feel so alive. She raced her team mates around the pitch, darting between them and laughing as she overtook them. She loved the thrill she got from flying.

Violet pulled up beside Cho, who grinned and then sped up even faster, pulling away, and Terry ducked beneath Violet and then they played a sort of tag on broomsticks, sharp turns and spins and flips making Violet dizzy. She giggled when Terry tagged Roger who looked a little miffed, but then he began chasing them again, and he started tailing Violet who pulled up and turned upside down suddenly, heading in the other direction. Roger followed, a sharp turn and he had taken off after her again.

He caught up quickly enough on a drop – he was good at descents. He flew past Violet and then he tagged her, with a quick grin as he went by. He pulled away, as though to make her follow him. Instead, she began tagging Laurence, and after she caught him and he had tagged Terry once more, Violet flew back down to the ground and neatly hopped off her broom while it was still moving, running along the ground for a few steps as she stopped, her breaths fast from the flying.

"Okay guys, time to get serious," Roger said as he nimbly jumped from his broom to the grass below. Bradley and Chambers landed after him with a little less grace and Cho followed, Laurence not far behind her. He had gone to the stands to pick up his helmet – keepers had to wear helmets.

They all put on their guards as Roger was explaining the drills they were going to be doing – some of the familiar ones from last year. Violet had been listening but then she spotted someone in the stands. It was far too early for anyone to be out here but them.

It was someone tall, with pale skin that contrasted wildly with his dark sweater and stark blonde hair which was being played with by the wind.

"Draco," Violet muttered in a sort of sigh, rolling her eyes. She quickly strapped on her last arm guard and mounted her broom.

Roger glanced at her and said, "Ready, Violet?"

She nodded, and said, "Do you mind if I go talk to Draco first? I need to ask him something."

"Like what he's doing watching our Quidditch practice?" Terry said in a slightly sceptical voice.

"Yeah, that too," Violet said, and Roger nodded after a moment's hesitation, giving her permission to take a few minutes off practice. She smiled gratefully and he smiled back after another moment, as she took off towards the stands.

Violet could see Draco's half smile as she got closer, and then she was right beside him. She didn't land in the stands – far too difficult. Instead, she just floated in the air just in front of him. He smiled and said, "Good morning, Phoenix."

Violet rolled her eyes again but smiled back. "Morning, Draco. Up nice and early, I see?"

"Came to inspect the pitch," he said innocently. He added, "Also came to inspect Davies. Make sure he doesn't canoodle when he's supposed to be practicing."

"You can't be my bodyguard all the time, Draco," Violet said with a sigh. "He's not dangerous."

"All boys are dangerous," Draco said, winking. "You don't know what goes on in our heads."

"Roger's a perfectly respectable boy," Violet said, but she seemed to have lost some of the confidence in her voice. Draco often tested her confidence, but for all the right reasons.

"I'll have to meet him later," Draco said, cracking a knuckle or two for effect. "Give him the talk, you know."

Violet frowned, and said sharply, "You are not my father."

Draco looked slightly taken aback. "I know that, Ph—Violet."

"I can look after myself."

Draco raised an eyebrow, and said, "Don't get upset, Violet. I'm just – I just want you to be safe."

Violet's angry frown faded. "Sorry."

Draco shrugged it off. "Don't worry about it. I guess I'll see you tonight. Say hi to Davies for me."

"Draco," Violet cried out, moving her broomstick to fly beside him as he walked away. "I didn't mean that. I'm sorry. I'm just a little – confused, at the moment. I'm planning to break up with Roger as soon as possible. There seemed to have been some bad communication skills."

Draco paused, frowning. "What do you mean?"

"I never agreed to being his girlfriend."

"So, you're just doing snog and run?"

Violet sighed. "No, it's just – I'll have to let him know that the whole girlfriend thing isn't all it's meant to be. I don't want to be with him."

"Good luck with that," Draco said, with a grimace. Then, he grinned. "Want me to tell him?"

Violet laughed aloud. "Oh Merlin, no. I doubt he'd take you seriously enough." She grinned, and then said goodbye before Draco could retort.


	16. Chapter 16

**The Ravenclaw**

_Chapter Sixteen_

After training, and after the rest of the team had left to go to lunch, Roger asked Violet if she wanted to go to Hogsmeade with him that afternoon.

They were in the Quidditch shed, putting the quaffle and bludgers back. Cho hadn't practiced with the snitch today, she had been practicing chasing tiny practice balls, not much larger than golf balls, around the pitch as Roger had levitated or thrown them for her.

Violet was a little surprised at Roger's question but she didn't show it – much. Maybe this was a chance to say how she really felt. "I'm not so sure, Roger, I mean... I don't want to – I don't want to give the wrong impression."

Roger frowned. "The wrong impression? What do you mean?"

"I'm just saying, I think – I think it was better when we were friends." Violet said in her uneven voice, but instead of Roger replying he simply pressed his lips to hers, pulling her chin upwards so he could kiss her deeply. Violet drew a deep breath in surprise, and she felt herself shaking. Roger pulled her closer with one hand on her back and the other he held her face with, and he pulled her against him, his hard chest squeezing all the air out of her lungs. It felt like he was just using her, like every other person in her life, save for a select few. He was just like everyone else.

Roger was kissing her harder than usual, his tongue pushing against her lips and sliding into her mouth, his hand in her hair was pulling a little too hard and his hand around her middle was too tight. She tried to push away a bit but he just kept pulling her closer.

Violet made a muffled, "Mmph!" sound, and then Roger pulled away, and he was frowning angrily. "You call that friendly?" he asked.

"I don't want this," Violet said, slightly scared. "I like you, but not like... not like this. Not like...that."

"We'll see," was all he said, and then he frowned down at her once more before walking away.

* * *

George was standing by his window, admiring the view of the bright morning. He hadn't slept in for too long, having been asleep since lunchtime the previous day. His sleeping habits were improving slightly – he only needed fourteen hours of sleep last night, but because he had fallen asleep at five in the afternoon he'd woken up at seven in the morning. He was afraid he might be becoming nocturnal, but he could deal with that once he was awake for at least half a day.

He had a nice view. He could see the lake if he leant one way, and the high mountains and low lying grey clouds, the light shining through the thin layer of cloud and casting beams across the lake. It was beautiful.

When he looked to the other side, he could see the Quidditch pitch, the high stands and the hoops. He'd give anything to have a go at Quidditch at that moment. He was aching to get back on his broom.

He could see the flags and the patriotic team colours ornately decorating the large pitch, and the sun shining off the three hoops at either end. He could see some training students dismounting, and making their way across the grass back to the castle. They were wearing royal blue robes. Ravenclaw.

He watched as they made their way back to the castle. He couldn't see Violet. Where was she?

Then he saw her stepping into the Quidditch shed, taking the quaffle with her. She was helping pack away, of course. She left her broom standing against the shed door as she went in, following someone inside.

She came back out again shortly after, her hair being whipped around her face by the playful wind, and she waited for her companion. Tall, dark hair, well built and handsome looking even from this distance – George knew it was Roger.

He watched as Roger looked down at her and he brushed away a bit of hair from her face. Violet seemed to blush and move away but he stayed close to her as they walked, and then she paused and looked up at him, frowning.

George couldn't see Roger's face, but he saw Violet frown and then Roger leaned towards her. George knew he shouldn't look but he couldn't tear his eyes away.

Stupid git.

George watched then, as Roger moved quickly and crushed his lips to hers. George felt his stomach drop as he wrapped his arms around her, and sick as Violet let herself be pulled against him, her face turned upwards as he leaned into her, pressing himself against her like he couldn't breathe without her. Did he even know that he was pulling her hair too hard? She looked like she was struggling, finding it hard to breathe. He was holding her too tightly, he was being so selfish. He could see her hands pressing into his shoulders, trying to push him away, fighting for air.

George knew if it were him kissing her, he'd be gentle and smooth, not rough and harsh like Roger was being. He'd hold her close to him but hold her carefully, because she was delicate. He'd touch her skin and kiss her lips with the lightest brush of his own, listening out for the way her breath would catch when he ran his fingertips on the back of her neck, tickling the tip of her spine, feeling the goosebumps he would raise as he ran his hand through her soft hair gently, letting the raven black waterfall run through his fingers...

He sighed. No, she'd rather have Roger. They were still kissing, he was still being too harsh, she was still struggling, and she'd never know how much better it could be because she didn't see George that way. He sighed, and then angrily pulled the curtain. She would always be too good for him but without even knowing it...


	17. Chapter 17

Forgive me for this chapter, but I'm always writing about George and it's not personal, I do love Fred, but I always feel sorry for my characters in the context. I'm not giving away any spoilers, but I prefer being able to finish a story and imagine that it goes on after I'm done telling it. Which is weird, because it's not real, but they're kinda there, in my head. They deserve happy endings, all of them.

So, in recognition of the lack of Fred Weasley in my fics, here is some pointless and wonderful Fred Weasley involvement in the story.

* * *

**The Ravenclaw**

_Chapter Seventeen_

Violet was a little miffed. She thought Roger wouldn't have taken it to heart. He said he had to go see Professor Flitwick, to discuss something to do with Quidditch practice, she assumed. Flitwick was always wanting to know how the team was going. He was rather competitive.

Violet was walking along quietly, having been quite a while behind Cho and the others as they went on ahead. She held her broom in her right hand, feeling rather weary. Quidditch certainly was exhausting, if nothing else.

She looked up as she saw footsteps coming, and saw a familiar, tall, red-headed figure, wearing a simple brown sweater and a dark pair of jeans.

"George?" she said, and then he looked up.

He spotted her and he changed direction, and he said as he walked up, "No, not George. But I'm told the likeness is startling."

Violet rolled her eyes. "Sorry, Fred."

"No problem," he replied. "George is still up in the infirmary, probably sleeping, the lazy git."

"No need to be so cruel," Violet said, defending George. "It was your potion that made his so sleepy, after all."

Fred raised a small eyebrow, but didn't say anything. He changed the subject. "So, been out at Quidditch?"

"Why would you jump to that conclusion?" Violet asked rather seriously, glancing down at her Quidditch gear.

"No reason," Fred said, shrugging. He then smiled, a big grin, and Violet smiled back. He leaned casually against the wall, and said, "So, how's things going with Davies?"

Violet's smile seemed to fade. "Oh, you heard about that?"

"You don't seem ecstatic about it," Fred commented, eyebrow raised again curiously.

Violet stammered, "Oh, no, it's not that. I didn't mean to – well, you know. It's not like I –" but she ran out of words to ramble.

Fred laughed. "Good grief. Much ado about nothing, eh?"

"It's not nothing," Violet said, defensively, though she didn't know whether she was defending herself or Roger.

"Well, what is it?"

Violet couldn't think of anything to say. He'd find out that they weren't an item anymore, anyway. She sighed, and rubbed her forehead. "Why does it matter?"

"Oh, I'm just looking out for you, as usual," Fred said, with a grin. "Though, admittedly, it didn't go so well last time."

"Clearly you don't learn," Violet said, frowning.

Fred shrugged. "It's hereditary, what can I say?"

"You can't blame everything on your genes."

"I can try," he said with a grin, but when Violet didn't smile back he sighed, and said, "Okay, I'm just trying to figure out how serious you and Davies are, or plan to be."

"Why?"

Fred looked up at the ceiling, and said, "Oh, no reason. Just curious."

Violet wasn't convinced, and Fred went on. "Also, out of curiosity, what would you say to George if he was here?"

Violet was slightly taken aback from the rather unusual question. "Oh, um. I'm not sure. 'Hello', perhaps that would be a good start."

Fred smiled. "Perhaps." He then paused, shifting off the wall, and said, "I think I'd know what George would say if he was here."

Violet frowned again, and asked, "Is it really fair of you to speak for George? I mean, I know you're twins and everything..." Her sentence trailed off.

Fred smiled mischievously. "I know George back to front, inside out. I know everything about him. And sometimes I can't help but understand how he thinks the way he does."

"Does he think particularly malicious thoughts?" Violet asked, with a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

Fred shook his head. "Not malicious. More... well, more appreciative, one could say."

Violet's smile faded. "Appreciative?"

Fred raised his hand and tapped her under the chin. "Certainly."

"So you're saying..."

"Yes."

Violet exhaled. "Oh."

She looked up again, and Fred grinned again, and said, "I have something for you from George."

"I could always go see him before breakfast."

"I'm sure he won't mind. Actually, he'll completely understand. And I'm certainly looking forward to seeing your face when you get it."

Violet was about to say that it would have to be a pretty amazing present, when suddenly Fred moved forward and planted what _should_ have been a swift kiss on her lips. Violet felt herself draw a quick breath and she went rigid, and Fred's lips lingered on her own. His kiss was soft, in a way that Roger's wasn't. He seemed to only be brushing his lips against hers. Her heart began to beat in overtime. How could one person be so much better at kissing than the next?

Then he pulled away, with a bright grin on his face, and he said as he patted her cheek, "I'll cherish that, as I'll probably never be able to do it again."

Violet frowned, as he turned to walk away, and she called out, "Wait, Fred!" He paused, and Violet said shakily, "What were you – I mean, what was that all about, just now?"

Fred smiled, and he said, "Well, I wouldn't ask you to cheat on George, but I've got no regret when I steal a kiss that probably should have been Roger's."

"But I'm not dating George," Violet said quietly, and then Fred leaned down and he whispered in her ear.

He said, his words breathed in a warm brush of air against her skin, making her shiver, "Not yet, you're not." He then gently kissed her earlobe, sending electric shivers across her skin, and brushed his lips against the edge of her jaw, before pulling away with a sparkle in his bright green eyes and saying, "Sorry, that was Roger's too. Can't help it, you're too cute."

"Fred, I'm not dating Roger anymore."

Fred paused. "Oh really?"

"As of about five minutes ago."

"That was a long-lasting relationship." Fred winked, and added, "That means that kissing you is alright." Without another thought, he placed one hand on the small of her back, pulled her towards him and kissed her again, a little more roughly that time. He pulled her closer, knowing there was no boundaries.

Well, almost no boundaries.

Fred turned and he pushed Violet against the wall, pressing himself against her, and Violet somehow didn't feel like this was such a bad thing. This was unruly, but unlike Roger, Fred was paying attention to her. He was making her feel good, not just worrying about himself. He was being a little bit wild but it made the blood rush through her head, made her heart crash through her chest and her stomach drop from beneath her. All the while he was kissing her, his hands ran through her hair and across her skin, down her side and back up again. No matter what Roger did, he'd never be able to make her feel like this.

And yet, she couldn't help but imagine that it wasn't Fred, but George. It was easy enough, with them being identical and everything...

_Stop thinking! _Violet's mind cried out. _Don't think so much, just kiss..._

Violet felt Fred's tongue dart out and she felt her mouth open as it brushed against the inside of her lips and ran over her teeth. She gasped at the feeling.

Fred stopped, and then kissed her on the lips a few more times, brushing his hand over her cheek, he said, "Sorry. I'm not into relationships. I'm more into kiss and run," and then he said with another wink, "Our little secret, hmm?"

"But you'll tell George anyway," Violet said as he strode away.

Fred turned and said, "He won't mind. In fact, I think he will laugh, and perhaps shake my hand. Any other man would have done what I just did. Who can blame me?" Fred flashed another toothy smile before turning the corner.

Violet shook her head and muttered in a confused, shaky voice, "_Boys_."


	18. Chapter 18

**The Ravenclaw**

_Chapter Eighteen_

Violet ran to her dorm and raced past Cho, who was halfway through greeting her in the common room. "Sorry, Cho, I gotta rush," she said breathlessly, and she took the stairs two at a time as she went to jump in the shower. She had to go see George before breakfast.

The shower was rushed, conditioner still in her wet hair as she attacked it with a towel to dry it out. She pulled it back roughly, tying it back, and then threw on a pair of jeans, a half-decent shirt (with the emblem of _The Leprechauns _on the front, one of her favourite wizard bands) and a jacket slightly too big for her as she ran back down the stairs, her laces untied on her sneakers as she hurried through the castle to the infirmary.

She was bolting along a corridor, a few first years giving her a shifty glance as she flew by, and she turned the corner and crashed into someone. "Oh Merlin," she exclaimed tiredly, "You have no idea how many times that has happened, I'm so – George!"

George grinned down at her, helping her recover her balance. He couldn't describe how nice it felt to hold her in his arms for but a second or two. "You're so George?" he asked, amusedly. "Personally, I thought I was more George than you were, but we can haggle."

Violet blushed the slightest, and then she pulled away slightly. "You're out of the infirmary?"

George replied, "Yeah. For now. It's just the sleeping that is still a bit iffy, but that should be solved by Monday." He half smiled, and said, "I'm just quoting Madam Pomfrey, so don't take my word for it."

Violet smiled a little. "Oh, that's good. You know, better that you're not so sick anymore."

"Like me better when I'm sleeping?" George asked with a grin.

"No, I didn't mean –"

He laughed. "Don't worry, Violet, I'm just teasing you."

She narrowed her eyes. "Cruel."

"I know," he agreed glumly. He then said, "So, what are you doing rushing around the castle like a mad witch?"

Violet blushed. "Oh, I was – I was actually coming to see you."

"In such a rush?"

"Before breakfast," she said. "I thought you'd still be in the hospital wing."

"But here I am!" George said, with a rather dramatic gesture, like he was presenting himself. A smile played on Violet's lips. "What was it you wanted to ask me?"

Violet looked down at her hands, "Fred came to see me just before. Well, we actually sort of met in the corridor. He said that –"

Her sentence trailed off, and George frowned, a little concerned. Anything Fred had told Violet about George was bound to be bad news.

"Go on," George said, the worry entering his voice.

Violet continued. "He said – well, more insinuated," she blushed again at this point, "that you – well, I don't exactly know what he was trying to say..."

"Let me guess," George said, with a sigh, "He gave you a gift from me."

Violet looked a little taken aback. "How did – what –?" she was a little stunned.

George sighed. "It's just a thing he does. Either pretends to be me, or says it's a gift from me. Practical joke."

To no surprise, Violet looked a little hurt. George added quickly, "I mean, you're going out with Roger. It's not like you really like me anyway."

Violet opened her mouth to say something, but she snapped it shut again. George frowned, and said, "Wait, do you like me?"

"I didn't know you liked me when I agreed to going out with Roger," she spluttered. "I liked you on the train. I really did. For the first five minutes. And then Emilie told me about how you liked me last year, and then because of the potions accident we were friends again and I couldn't stop thinking about you even when I was with Roger, and it's not like we're even going out, and then Fred kissed me and I feel so bad but I just thought about you because –"

George had been listening to her rant, and then with a wild grin he realised that everything he'd been wishing for had been there all along. He took her face gently into his hands and then carefully placed his lips on hers. Just like he expected, she drew a sharp breath, and to his surprise, instead of pulling away or going rigid in surprise, she melted into him, her lips moulding to his, and George moved closer to her. She wrapped her arms around him and ran her hands through his long, silky red hair. George moved his lips slowly against hers softly, and she breathed out shakily, and as he moved a hand round to the back of her neck she sighed, and as he touched her still slightly damp hair and traced small circles on her skin, he felt goosebumps rise beneath his touch.

"Violet?"

George quickly broke away, expecting it to be Malfoy or Theodore, or one of her other chummy chums, but then he saw who it was who had spoken.

Roger Davies stood in the corridor, a look of upmost horror on his usually perfect face. He then turned and without another word he stormed off.

Violet watched Roger go down the stairs, and she heard George say with a snort, "He's so broken up with."

"That probably could have gone a little better," Violet muttered. She had forgotten that Professor Flitwick's office was on the same floor as the infirmary.

George's long arms wrapped around her middle and he murmured into her hair, "I hope you weren't planning on breaking it to him gently." He kissed her hair and then the top of her ear, tracing circles on her stomach with his beautiful hands.

Violet shivered. "I already told him I don't want to be with him, but he probably didn't believe me."

"Maybe he didn't think you'd move on quite so quickly," George suggested.

"I do like him as a friend," Violet said. "I feel bad."

Violet could almost hear George rolling his eyes. "He'll survive. He's a man, and a Casanova at that."

"I suppose so," she said, agreeing with a small giggle; George had just moved his elegant hand and had gently tickled her just below her ribs.

George laughed at her squirming in his arms, and then he whispered, "Care to finish what we started? I'm sure there's an old dusty classroom somewhere calling our names, and I'm quite prepared to take away your breath again."

Violet blushed, but she nodded. George grinned and turned her around before saying, "Wait, do you want breakfast?"

Violet replied, "No. I think I'll skip this one time."

George raised his eyebrows and made a small purring sound to voice his approval, and Violet blushed again as she laughed.

He took her hand and they ran away to find an empty classroom.


	19. Chapter 19

**The Ravenclaw**

_Chapter Nineteen_

Not long after, George found an arithmetic classroom that had been turned into a storeroom for chairs. He opened it carefully, with a barely spoken _alohamora._

George ushered her in and then shut the door, locking it again behind him. Violet walked in to the room, and a quick wave of her wand and a whispered a spell, and the candles and lanterns in the room were lit.

George just as quickly dimmed half of them, saying, "Keep it romantic, beautiful." He grinned, and then he took a few steps towards her, gently wrapping his arms around her. In turn, Violet snaked her arms around his middle, surprised at how hard his chest seemed to be. She then remembered Quidditch, and how Draco always seemed to have a perfect six pack. It certainly kept the boys in shape, and George was no exception.

George slowly pulled her closer to him, so that her nose bumped against the bottom of his neck, near his collar bone. She inhaled, and sighed as she savoured his somewhat spicy scent. His skin was so soft, as she leant into him and buried her face into the crook of his neck.

"Enjoying yourself?" George asked, and Violet felt him playing with her hair. She smiled.

"Just a little," she said quietly, nervously. She ran her fingers very carefully and timidly along his spine, and she felt him draw a little breath, and what may have been a very quiet, mild groan of pleasure, and he seemed to arch his back the slightest. Violet made a mental note that it was one of his more sensitive spots.

George leaned down so they were cheek to cheek, and he said, mumbling against her skin, "Can I make your experience any more pleasant, perhaps?"

"Perhaps," Violet breathed. Roger had never made her feel so elated, so breathless. She felt a rush of blood run through her, through her skin, and she felt suddenly very warm, but that couldn't explain the shiver that ran across her skin wherever George touched her, or the way her stomach felt like an enormous black hole, more than just being punched like it had felt when Roger kissed her. It felt like it had dropped out of her altogether, and now there were butterflies. At least, she thought there was. It felt more like there was just some sort of enormous butterfly made out of cast iron that was slam dancing inside her lower abdomen.

George laughed, his breath drifting over her skin, another shiver as her sensitive skin relished the feeling. She felt all shaky as she felt George's arms tighten around her, and she let herself be pulled into him. It didn't feel like she was trapped, it felt like he was protecting her, like he would never let go.

Violet closed her eyes and she could feel George's cheek brush against hers, and his breath on her ear. Then he kissed her earlobe, just like Fred had done. Violet gasped as an enormous tingling feeling ran down the left side of her body, and George chuckled. "Interesting," he whispered, like he was examining her.

George lifted his head back up again, and he leaned down as though to kiss Violet, and she reached up to greet his lips with her own but he pulled away at the last moment, leaving her lingering mere millimetres from his lips...

He could feel his breath mingling with her own and she moved again, to kiss him, but he pulled back again, and then Violet realised he was teasing her, and she frowned a little, making him chuckle.

She then smiled, and then she stayed where she was, their lips oh so very close, and she brought her hands around from his middle and she moved them along his stomach to rest them on his chest, one hand creeping up a little further to trace lines along his neck, across his jaw and to play with his beautiful near-shoulder-length red hair.

George suddenly felt that it was time to let their lips lock in that kiss that had escaped Violet, but as he moved to kiss her she turned her head down so that he was resting his head against her hair. He felt her smile as she pulled herself closer, her hands resting on his chest, and George raised an eyebrow. Apparently she was giving him a dose of her own medicine.

He was a little annoyed, but that only made him want to kiss her more. He breathed in and he could smell the strange combination of her vanilla shampoo and the natural leafy smell of her hair that made him feel so soft and weak. Why, he would give anything just to smell this one more time! He felt like he was going crazy but he didn't care because the crazy felt _good_.

He tried again, ducking his head, searching for her lips but she moved away again, and he only brushed the corner of her mouth. She was smiling, and he said, "You can't keep this up for too much longer."

"Oh really?" she asked, smiling, and George saw her eyes travelling across his face, taking in every part of him, studying every tiny feature of his face, every pore of skin, every eyelash, every line and curve of his face.

"You're admiring me?" he asked, accidentally making it a question.

Violet smiled shyly. "I guess," she said. "You noticed?"

George smiled back. "I was just thinking – you know, I never even thought you'd give me the time of day. Last year, I mean."

Violet shook her head, her hair shimmering in the dim light of the room. "I would have, if you'd asked."

"Never thought to ask," George murmured, bumping his nose against hers. He then smiled, and when he blinked he felt his eyelashes brushing against her own long, thick eyelashes. He said quietly, "Permission to kiss you?"

"Permission granted," Violet breathed, and then George finally captured her lips with his own, and Violet melted against him again, clutching onto his sweater to pull herself closer to him. He wrapped both arms around her, and she reached up on her toes to kiss him more. He moved his lips gently against hers, and he let himself enfold her in his embrace, savouring every moment, every movement she made and every tiny detail. Every time she sighed gently, her warm breath against his skin, or when she reached up and tangled her hands in his hair, sending shivers across his skin.

He moved his lips away from her mouth and he kissed her pulse lightly, and she jumped a little in surprise. He kept kissing her there, and he thought that he heart the tiniest giggle escape her lips as he did so, as though it tickled her. He then playfully and ever so gently bit her, scraping his teeth over her skin, and she gasped, and he could have sworn he heard her moan when he ran his lips and tongue over the small bite mark on her skin.

He moved away from her neck and was about to kiss her again, when she pulled away and said, "Why does that feel so good?"

George was a little taken aback, but he realised she'd never done any of this before. George was experienced, to say the least (but not as experienced as, say, Fred), but Violet had only ever been with Roger and that hadn't been a long lasting relationship.

George simply smiled, and said, "What, this?" and he quickly ducked his head down again and kissed her on the other side of her neck. She giggled again quietly, and he chuckled against her skin. "It tickles," she said in her defence, and George replied, "I know. Why do you think I do it?"

He kissed her on the mouth again, and he pulled her so close that she was standing on his feet, hardly touching the ground.

Oh, George had dreamed of this day but he'd never imagined it would have been this amazing, this perfect. Everything she did was spectacularly better than any other kiss he'd had before, but he hadn't ever fantasised about kissing every other girl he'd been with. He'd been imagining this moment since last year, since Christmas. It was so perfect, so warm, so soft, so wet...

Wait, wet?

Why were his cheeks wet? Was he crying? Was he so elated, in such pure bliss that he'd been crying? No, George was sure he wasn't crying. There was no familiar burning behind his eyelids, no telltale blurring as he opened his eyes, no warm tingle as the tears fell.

Violet was crying.

George immediately pulled away and he felt his heart falter. Had he done something wrong? Had he upset her? "Violet, what's wrong?" he asked, worriedly, placing her back down on the floor. "Did I hurt you? I'm sorry if this is too fast, but I just –"

Violet shook her head, and she smiled meekly, her lips shaking. "No, George. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. You didn't do anything wrong."

"Then why are you crying?" he asked, as another tear spilled over and rolled down her cheek. He lifted his hand and he wiped away the tear gently, wiping her face lovingly.

Violet replied, "Emotion overload." She laughed unsteadily. "I mean, Roger never made me feel like this. He just – it was just like I was another girl to him. But you make me feel like – like I haven't felt since –" More tears appeared and then Violet buried her face into his shoulder, and he wrapped his arms around her and held her close.

Of course, he thought. She probably hadn't felt so loved since before she came to Hogwarts and disgraced her family, and they had abandoned her. He should have expected as such. He said quietly, "As long as you're okay. I don't want to make you feel – I don't want to upset you. If I'm bringing up any bad memories or anything –"

Violet shook her head. "No, no bad memories." She sighed shakily, and she said, "You have to understand, George, that even though my family are purebloods, and even though they used to – used to use different disciplinary methods –" she paused, and George frowned, wondering about the 'disciplinary methods' and hoping he was wrong, and then Violet went on, "They were my family. They loved me so much, I was everything to them. They were so proud of me." She laughed unconvincingly. "They always said that I was perfect. They thought I was wonderful, beautiful, smart – all of that. I was everything to them," she said again. She wasn't smiling anymore.

George began to speak but she cut him off, saying, "Don't, George. I know you're sorry and all, but there's nothing either of us can do. I have to – have to move on, and part of moving on and forgetting instead of being nostalgic is finding a different sort of love, where I'm loved for who I am and not what I'm supposed to be. It's a big ask and I'm sorry for asking so much of you, and I don't mind if you'd rather just not say anything at all and go back to kissing me. I won't blame you. It's not your fault they don't love me anymore." Her voice was trembling and he knew she'd probably choke on her words if she tried to speak anymore.

George noticed that she was gripping onto his sweater again, her knuckles white. He felt her breathing unevenly, and he held her gently, swaying her in his arms. She hadn't meant to cry because that revealed how weak she was, and how desperate she was to just be loved.

George understood why she wanted that, and then he made a rather quick decision and figured that he would probably say it to her eventually if not now, so why delay it anyway?

"I love you," he whispered, but not in a statement sort of way – he said it as though he was saying, '_they_ might not love you, but _I _do'.

He felt her draw a breath in his arms, and then she lifted her head back up again and looked at him, her bright blue eyes still shimmering with tears as she asked, her voice almost nonexistent, "What?"

George said again, "_I – love – you._" This time, he said it like he was insisting. He was confirming it for her. Violet's eyes went wide and George hoped it was because she was elated, and then she pulled herself up, onto her toes, and she kissed him with such passion that he could only assume she felt the same.

After a moment, she pulled away just enough to speak, and she said, her lips brushing against his as she spoke, "Do you really?"

George nodded. "I do. I know I do."

She was shaking as though she was going to cry again, and then George kissed her again and again, kissed her until her tears turned to smiles, and she said in a beautiful whisper, "I love you, George Weasley."

George felt his heart flutter, and he smiled. He knew that there was a sort of magic that couldn't be cast by a spell, but it was just the sort of magic that never let the bad things ever really happen. It was the sort of magic that made his dreams come true, and now he was holding his dream in his arms.


End file.
